Safe
by rintintin20
Summary: She was only fifteen when the Winchesters hunted her family and saved her life, leaving her with no choice but to stay with them until they figured something out. They never did. Years, hunts, and pain all passed, persevered through and moved on from no matter how difficult they were. Until John Winchester disappeared. OC. Follows season one.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey! I've really been itching to write some sort of Supernatural fic that follows the series. I haven't read any similar fics prior to this and last time I did was years ago, so if anything seems similar to something, I promise that it's not on purpose! This first chapter is just background stuff and a bit long, sorry! Rated M for safety. Hope you all enjoy it anyway :)**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

 **October 2nd, 1998**

 **Columbia, Missouri**

* * *

A storm raged outside, rain pouring down and wind whipping the trees. Thunder rumbled just overhead and lightning would strike every couple of minutes, illuminating the dark streets and buildings.

Sam and Dean Winchester stomped through each puddle without a care, both of them already soaked to the bone and covered in mud; the latter of the two taking out a key as they trudged up to their motel room door. He shoved the key into the lock impatiently, practically grunting as he pushed the door open and stumbled inside, flicking on the light.

"Dad," Sam called out as he followed his brother into the room, shutting the door behind him. All was silent aside from another clap of thunder, and both boys could see that the beds were empty and the bathroom was open and dark. "Huh. He's not back yet. What do you think he's doing?"

"Don't know, Sammy. Don't _care_ , Sammy," Dean groaned, kicking off his boots, "It's Dad. He's probably just...doing something. He can take care of himself." He shrugged off his filthy jacket and tossed it onto a chair.

"Yeah, I know, but what if he found another...whatever those things were?" Sam sighed.

Dean looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "You wanna go help him?"

"...no."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm hitting the shower." He walked into the bathroom and turned the light on, ignoring Sam's noises of protests.

"Come on, man. Why do you get to shower first?"

"Because I'm the oldest."

"I'm the smartest."

"What does that have to do with anything—"

Lightning flashed and the door suddenly slammed open, startling Sam and causing Dean to immediately run out of the bathroom, prepared to fight whatever it was that was breaking into their room. Two dark figures, one tall and one a lot smaller, stood in the doorway for only a moment before rushing into the light.

There stood John Winchester, his arm around a girl who looked to be around Sam's age, though you couldn't decipher much beneath her mussed hair and mud-covered form. John lead her to the table, tossing Dean's jacket off of one of the chairs and sitting her down.

"—what the hell, Dad?" Dean managed to spit out after a moment's shock. "You're bringing home _strays_ now? Never thought I'd see the day—"

"Shut up, Dean," John said simply. Dean obeyed immediately, though hardly any time passed before Sam piped up.

"He's right, Dad. We've never brought home anyone before..." He looked at the girl curiously, his brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

John heaved a heavy sigh; one that was often brought out when Sam exasperated him. "Drop it, Sam," was all he said, before he looked at the girl. "What's your name, honey?"

The two brothers immediately looked at each other, Sam mouthing 'honey?' in complete confusion, having never heard his dad talk that way. They looked back at the girl. She looked lost for a moment, like she wasn't all there, before she suddenly looked at John.

She seemed to struggle for a moment, opening and closing her mouth. Finally, after a moment of trying to speak, she uttered softly, "Katherine."

"Katherine. Okay, Katherine," John helped her to her feet, more gentle than he had ever been in years, to Sam and Dean's surprise, "why don't you go in and take a shower? There's towels in there and I'll leave you something to wear. Go on now." He lead her to the bathroom. He turned the shower on for her then left the room, shutting the door and sighing softly.

"Seriously, Dad, what the hell?" Sam asked, interrupting John's rare moment of rest. "You've never done this before. You'd probably give us hell if we did it...what's going on?"

John's face immediately soured. "Watch your tone with me. I'm the authority here, I'll bring someone here if I want to."

"I'm just saying that it's weird! I just wanna know why..."

"Because!" He sighed again, running a hand through his own filthy hair. "It won't be for long, okay?" He looked at Sam, then Dean, who looked just as confused as Sam despite his silence. "So don't worry about it and just...drop it."

"But, Dad—"

"Sam." Dean interrupted, giving him a look, trying to prevent a fight.

"Look, give her one of your shirts or something. Make sure she's okay. I'm going to get a room for her." John went over to his bag of belongings and took out some cash. He could feel the boys' gazes on him. "Just trust me on this. It's only going to be a couple of weeks."

* * *

 **October 14th, 1998**

 **Carmel, Indiana**

* * *

Nearly a couple of weeks after that, John, Dean, Sam, and Katherine all sat around in a motel room, eating lunch. It was all burgers and fries from some nearby fast food joint; John ate a bite every so often as he looked through the newspaper for strange occurrences, Dean devoured his food like an animal, Sam ate his food rather reluctantly for a growing teenage boy, and Katherine just stared at hers.

She was still there, despite John's promises. He still had yet to explain why he'd taken her in to the boys, and Sam eventually stopped asking and just tried to be kind to the girl. She barely spoke, and barely ate, and stayed at whatever motels they stopped at while they went on a hunt. Sam would sometimes stay with her and enjoyed it far more than hunting, which was part of the reason why he didn't bother pestering his dad about her.

They hardly knew anything about her, but both boys could admit that she was pretty, with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and innocent features. Though they — even Dean — hadn't thought about it much. It was hard to when she was in their lives under such strange circumstances, and it was clear that she was traumatized from something.

Now, she slowly lifted up a french fry and stared at it. "It's all real."

John, Dean, and Sam, as many horrifying things as they had dealt with, nearly jumped out of their seats at the sound of her voice. She hadn't really said much of anything since she practically whispered her name the first night she was brought there. They all just stared in stunned silence for a moment, but Dean managed to recover first.

"Uh...it's delicious, but it ain't real." That earned him a look from both John and Sam, which he ignored.

Katherine looked up at him, then quickly back down. "No. I...I mean, the things you read about in books, and watch on TV, and see in movies. Monsters...ghosts...all of that. It's real."

There was silence again. John sighed and folded up the newspaper he had been reading. "It's all real. We've dealt with it...firsthand." He shifted awkwardly as Katherine nodded in thought.

"You talk about it so casually. Like it's normal. Like..."

"Like we're used to it." John leaned forward in his seat. "That's because we are. I lost my wife to one of these 'monsters' a long time ago, and I've been going after it ever since." His eyes darkened as he spoke. "We take care of other things along the way...we're hunters. That's why we search for them and we go out on hunts."

"We're like pest control." Dean chuckled to himself. Sam rolled his eyes.

Katherine nodded, furrowing her brow. "I feel like I'm supposed to be in shock and denial, but...I know what I saw." Pain quickly flickered over her face and she looked over at John. "Where do I go from here? I have nothing! I...I have..."

"I know, I know," John quickly interrupted before she could begin to panic. "You told me plenty when I found you—"

"Found her?" Sam stood up, his curiosity coming back full force. "Dad, are you ever going to tell us what this is all about?"

"Sam, is now really the time?" John snapped, glaring at him.

"When is it ever going to be the time? You won't tell us anything!"

"I have had about enough—"

"Please," Katherine spoke the loudest she ever had around them. It was hardly even close to a shout, but it was loud enough that it got through to them. "I'm sorry, but I'm a little scared right now. I don't know what to do..."

Sam looked away bashfully and sat back down, while John returned his attention to her. "I've been trying to think of something these past couple of weeks. You're not old enough for me to let you go out on your own in good conscience...and I don't have time to be putting some kid in foster care. It wouldn't be fair to you anyway. The only thing I can figure, is that you stay with us until we can find something else."

Both Dean and Sam wanted to tell their father, once again, how unlike him this was. But they both stayed silent, knowing that there had to be a damn good reason for him to offer this girl a place with them.

"Not that I don't want to take your offer, but are you sure? You clearly have your lives figured out...you didn't ask to find me..."

"You didn't ask to be found. As long as you don't get in our way and can contribute somehow, I have no problem letting you tag along with us." John looked over at Sam and Dean. "My boys, on the other hand..."

"I don't mind," Sam quickly said. "I'm confused, but I don't mind. I like staying back at the motel with her over hunting anyway..."

Dean sighed and said almost convincingly, "It's cool. It's gonna be weird having a girl around, but it's cool." He was, perhaps, a little upset that their life was going to be shifted, but he didn't dare say anything so vulnerable.

"Good. It wasn't your choice, anyway." John looked at Katherine, nodding. "You'll be fine with us until we figure something out."

* * *

 **November 5th, 1998**

 **Evanston, Wyoming**

* * *

Katherine had been with them for over a month now, with no sign of any other option for her to go to. Everything seemed to be falling into place; Sam and Dean were getting used to having her around and she was becoming more like herself. With each passing day, the quiet, solemn, fearful girl they had met was replaced with a smart, stubborn, but thoughtful girl. She still had her bad moments because of whatever had happened to her — Sam assumed it had something to do with the hunt that night his dad found her, but he had yet to figure out why that would make her have to stay with them — but she was getting better.

Sam enjoyed having her around, especially because staying behind at the motel with her still got him out of a hunt every now and then. Dean found that he didn't mind the change as much as he thought he would, and he definitely didn't mind having a pretty girl around.

She did as was asked of her. She didn't get in the way of anything they were doing and she helped by looking for any leads for a hunt.

That was what she was doing now, a few newspapers spread out on the bed where she was sitting. Sam sat on the other bed in the room, snacking on something while he looked through one of the newspapers, and John and Dean were out checking on something that sounded like it might be supernatural.

"I can't find anything...I'm not convinced there's anything here. This might just be another pass-through." She was getting good at this whole 'hunter' thing, too, even if she hadn't actually hunted. She knew what to look out for and usually knew whether or not they would have to stay in town or move on somewhere else. She would be lying if she said she wasn't beginning to enjoy it. She was beginning to enjoy the Winchesters, too, as much as she could in her still-fragile state.

"Same here." Sam folded the newspaper up. "Dad's gonna be pissed...but what else is new?"

Katherine looked over at him. "What do we do now? We can't just sit here until Dean and your dad get back..."

"I don't know...we could go out and pick up food. Something that's not on a value menu, maybe?"

"—should we leave the motel when they're not here?"

Sam shrugged, standing up. "Sure, why not? I'm old enough now to go places on my own. I'm not helpless like Dean thinks I am. Besides, we'll stay close and be back in ten minutes."

"—okay." Katherine stood. "I'll go to my room and get on some warmer clothes." When she first stayed with them, John had sent Dean out to pick up a few things from a thrift store for her. Luckily, after a little while, she was able to go to a thrift store herself and pick out some more suitable things.

She didn't feel completely up to going out, even after all this time, but felt safe with Sam.

"I'll change here, I guess." Sam walked to his bag and got out some more outdoorsy clothes, before going into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Katherine walked over to the door to leave, but stumbled back when she opened it to find a man standing there. While his sudden presence would have startled anyone, not only was she still a little skittish, but something felt _very_ wrong. Her heart started to pound, but she licked her lips nervously and said, "Um, excuse me? I think you have the wrong room..."

The man said nothing. He stepped into the room and Katherine quickly stepped back, but with each step she took away, he took another towards her.

"Sa—" She didn't realize how close to the wall she was until he shoved her against it, putting his hand over her mouth.

"I knew I had to stop. I just smelled something _so good_." He leaned in to smell her hair and she tried to cringe away, stopped by the wall behind her. "It'll only hurt for a minute, girl, and then I'll be done." He opened his mouth and leaned in, and Katherine didn't need to know _what_ kind of monster he was to know he was about to, for lack of a better term, make her into a meal.

She immediately started to struggle against him, hitting at his chest and screaming against his hand as loudly as she could, anything to get him off and alert Sam. The man didn't even seem to notice her struggles, and she could feel his teeth, and then—

The door to the bathroom was thrown open and Sam stumbled out. "What— Katherine!" He immediately jumped into action, running over to the beds and pulling a duffel bag out from under one.

"I don't appreciate having my meals interrupted." The man pulled away only to glare at Sam, keeping Katherine pinned against the wall. "You'll be next, don't worry..." He turned back to Katherine and continued his pursuit to feast on any flesh he could see.

"Leave her alone!" Sam pulled out the first weapon he could find, a small dagger, and turned to throw it at the man. It hit the wall, burying itself right next to Katherine's head, causing her to scream. "Oh, God! I'm sorry! Just..." He quickly turned to look through the bag again.

"I told you not to chase it towards the motel, Dean!" John's voice came from outside the room, before he and Dean ran inside. "Shit!" He wasted no time before grabbing the man off of Katherine, tossing him to the floor.

"You again! I thought I had lost you...just _let me eat_!" The man dodged John's fist, quickly scrambling to his feet and shoving Dean aside easily, running out the door.

"After him! Now!" John tossed a weapon to Dean, who went out after the man.

Sam stopped looking through the bag, watching Dean go and then looking at his father. "Is Dean going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine. He can handle this." John moved to Katherine, who was still against the wall, her eyes wide. "Katherine? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Katherine did a quick mental check of herself, nodding. She was surprised to find that she wasn't as scared as she thought she might be in a situation like this; maybe the Winchesters were a bigger help than she knew. That didn't mean she wasn't damn scared, but she wasn't whimpering and panicking on the floor like...when John had found her. "Yes, actually...and no, he didn't. Sam distracted him, then you and Dean came in before he could. What was he?"

He didn't answer her. "If me, Sam, or Dean hadn't been here, you would have been in a lot of trouble." He looked at her, nodding. "I think it's time to teach you how to hunt." Neither she nor Sam had a chance to respond to that before his gaze went to the dagger in the wall. "—Sam!"

* * *

 **January 8th, 1999**

 **Elgin, Illinois**

* * *

"Oh, come on, if I were some monster you would seriously be my bitch right now."

"Shut _up_ , Dean!"

Katherine and the Winchesters had fallen into a comfortable routine. Katherine — and sometimes Sam — researched areas for anything suspicious, Dean and John — and sometimes Sam — would hunt anything that needed hunting, they would all eat, they would all sleep, and John would teach Katherine about monsters, weapons, or fighting in their spare time.

With each day, she grew stronger both physically and mentally. Her personality, the Winchesters found, was usually caring and gentle, albeit quick-witted and still stubborn; and when she needed to be, she could be fiery.

Like now, as John and Sam were off on a hunt this time, and Dean couldn't _bear_ another second of research, so he decided to teach her how to escape various holds. He was relentless in his fighting and his teasing, which frustrated Katherine beyond belief.

"I'm just saying!" He had her pinned face first against a wall in her motel room, holding one of her arms behind her back. "I think my dad's holding back on you. You can't get out of this? You're a monster's bitch. With a collar and everything."

Katherine growled, struggling against him, which only made him twist her arm further behind her back. "Dean! That hurts!"

"The kind of shit that's out there isn't going to care whether they hurt you or not." He paused, then chuckled. "Do you hear that jingle? It's the bell on your little pink collar, complete with 'Kitty Kat' inscribed into the leather—"

She suddenly turned, elbowing him right in the stomach with her free arm — a bit harder than she meant to. He gasped for air and released her, stumbling back, gripping at his stomach as he doubled over in pain.

"There." She turned to face him, stretching out her aching arm.

He looked up at her and said breathlessly, "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He took another deep breath and then straightened up, nodding. "Good. That was good. Why don't we go out and get some drinks from the vending machine?"

"Thank God. Let's get some snacks, too." Katherine walked towards the door. She made it just a couple of feet before she was suddenly tackled right to the floor by Dean. "Hey! Dean! What the hell?"

"Never _ever_ ," He grunted as he flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the floor, "let your guard down. Or turn your back. Or trust someone. You made a lot of mistakes there." He grinned and she glared at him half-heartedly, before they both just looked at each other, neither of them moving. "—so, are you going to thank me for teaching you?"

She smirked, then easily flipped them over, pinning Dean beneath her. "You're a stereotypical, horny nineteen-year-old boy."

"Hey, I'm going to be twenty in a couple weeks."

"And I'm going to be sixteen next month, which means that you're actually a stereotypical pervert."

"Come on, it's a four year difference. It's not like it's my dad hitting on you...wait, he hasn't, has he?"

"No! Gross...is that something I should be wary of?"

"Of course not—"

A loud bang suddenly came from the room next door, followed by the sound of John's muffled voice. Katherine and Dean looked at each other and both quickly got to their feet, going out to investigate what was going on. The door to the boys' room was wide open, so they stood in the doorway to watch.

"I thought we were done with this, Sam!" John threw the dagger he had been carrying onto the bed.

Sam stood across the room, his arms crossed and anger evident on his face. "I just don't understand, Dad! Why won't you tell us? What is so terrible that you won't tell us?"

"Fine! You wanna know, Sam?" John yelled, his tone taking on a terrifying quality that both Sam and Dean knew meant he was furious. "That night...that _hunt_...that was her family. Her family turned into those creatures and they were going after her—"

Sam looked at his father in horror, before his gaze went to the door, where Katherine stood looking ready to cry and Dean stood in shock. "Dad—"

"No, you wanted to hear this! That was her family that we hunted that night. While you and Dean ran off to go get clean, I found her cowering underneath a tree. I know you think I'm a dick, Sam, but do you know what that was like? That little girl was scared because she didn't understand what happened to her family and she had _nothing else_. So that's why I took her in and that's why she's still here. Are you happy now?"

Dean glanced at Katherine and quickly stepped into the room. "Dad?"

"What?" John snapped, turning and noticing Katherine. "—Katherine. I'm sorry you had to hear that..."

"No. It's okay." Her voice were shaky and tears had gathered in her eyes from the memory of _why_ she was here. She may have been feeling better and settling in with the Winchesters, but that pain was still there. "I'm...glad they know. It was clearly bugging them." She did her best to smile, before quickly walking back to her room.

John sighed heavily and looked at Sam with a shake of his head, walking into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, sitting down on the foot of one of the beds. "I shouldn't have pushed him."

"You always push him, Sam." Dean crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

"It's different this time. It wasn't just us getting at each other...Katherine was finally opening up and being...I don't know. Normal! And now...I messed it all up..."

"She'll be _fine_. She made it through it once, she'll do it again...that shit always hurts. You know that." Dean looked away as Sam grimaced. "But...she'll be fine. She has us and...God, this is so cheesy. Wanna go get something to eat?"

Sam looked pensive for a moment. "—no. Uh...you pick something up. I'll be right back." He stood up without another word and walked out of the room, leaving Dean confused.

* * *

 **May 24th, 1999**

 **Clive, Iowa**

* * *

"Katherine? _Katherine_? Katherine!"

The call of her name sounded so far away, like someone was shouting it into a tin can from a desert island. Beyond that, she recognized stomping, yelling, banging; all muffled just like her name. A high ringing sound overpowered every other noise and she couldn't help but think about how irritating it was.

"Katherine." Something touched her face, then tugged at her arms. She slowly blinked her eyes open to see a blurry figure crouching down in front of her. She blinked again and again, and as much as she had to before the figure came in focus and she could see Sam's face. "Are you okay?"

Everything came rushing back to her. _Hunt. House. Ghost. Throw._ She groaned as pain radiated through her body. They had been on a hunt for some sort of ghost, her first legitimate hunt, and things hadn't gone as planned. Unless John, Dean, and Sam secretly planned for the ghost to use its powers to hurl her across the room and right into the wall.

"You know, Sam," she started, still a little delirious, "I don't think John and Dean trained me very well."

Sam nearly rolled his eyes and started to move to help her up, only to stop and look over his shoulder as John called to him. "Coming!" He got up, running across the room.

Katherine watched for a moment, seeing John hand a few things to Sam while Dean dealt with the ghost. She tried to stand and immediately felt dizzy, falling to her knees in an attempt to keep from actually passing out. "Hey...a little help...here..." She felt a little useless, watching Sam go over to a nearby fireplace that was already lit. She didn't remember that, but assumed one of the boys did it.

Suddenly, Sam was out of her view and there was a thud beside her, as he was thrown into the wall just like her. He also went a tad unconscious, just like her, only able to let out a quiet groan.

"—necklace! The necklace!" John was yelling. "Katherine, get the damn necklace!"

She furrowed her brow in confusion, before looking down and seeing an old, jewel necklace on the floor by Sam. She looked at that, then the fireplace, then the necklace again, then—her eyes caught sight of the ghost. It dropped its attention from John and Dean, who were doing their best to keep it occupied, and started walking towards her. At an alarming speed. She barely had time to think before she grabbed the necklace and started to practically crawl as quickly as she could toward the fireplace.

The most terrifying growl came from the ghost that sent a chill through Katherine despite all of her training, but she didn't have time to stop for her own fear.

Sam started to wake, John and Dean ran after the ghost, and Katherine tossed the necklace right into the fireplace.

The spirit reached out for her threateningly and she closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for whatever it could do to her. Instead of another trip across the room or anything else physical, there was a horrible scream that echoed through the room, and she opened her eyes just in time to see the ghost disappear from sight.

All was silent except for their breathing, until Sam finally moaned, "Katherine's right. I don't think you trained us very well." It was said in a half-joking tone, though no one laughed as Dean rushed to help him up.

"You okay, Sammy?"

John walked over and pulled Katherine to her feet, giving her a hard slap on the shoulder. It may have been okay for a young man like Dean or an incredibly tall teenager like Sam, but the hit had the sixteen-year-old girl nearly stumbling forward, giving John an offended look.

"You did good, kid," he said, making her offended stare morph into a tentative smile.

Sam assured Dean he was fine and brushed himself off. "Come on, she saved our asses."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, grabbing a bag of their supplies and weapons as they headed to the door. "Who did all the work while Sleeping Beauty took a nap? We're lucky she was awake enough to get rid of the necklace." Despite his words, he slung an arm around Katherine's shoulders and pulled her close. "At least you didn't run away screaming. Not bad for your first actual hunt...I'll even get you a participant ribbon, Kat."

The nickname rolled off his tongue easily, as it had for the past couple of months. It was either because he was too lazy to say her full name or because he felt close enough to give her a nickname, but either way, it stuck.

"Thanks a lot, Dean-o," she bantered back easily, which was the usual interactions between them. Her own nickname for him had started out sarcastic, but sometimes it stuck, too.

* * *

 **February 20th, 2000**

 **Tulsa, Oklahoma**

* * *

It had been over a year since Katherine met the Winchesters, and there was still no sign of her leaving. Truth be told, despite the circumstances, she didn't want to leave them; truth be told, despite the change of having her around, they didn't want her to leave. John enjoyed the extra help, she and Dean bantered happily, and she and Sam became especially close, given their close ages and, as they discovered, similar thoughts and sensitivites. She had even eased into their lifestyle and moved onto bigger hunts, able to fight alongside the boys with little difference to them.

She wouldn't call them a family. Though protective at times, John was hardly even close to a father figure to her, and Sam and Dean felt more like friends than brothers. None of them knew what to call their group and none of them felt the need to, they all just knew it was pretty good.

Usually.

"Happy birthday to you...happy birthday to you...happy birthday, dear Kat...happy birthday to you..." Sam sang tiredly, a little off key, but Katherine didn't mind.

To be perfectly honest, she was pretty drugged up.

It may have been her birthday, but they had to go out on a hunt that night anyway. John had been so sure this time that it was that Yellow-Eyed Demon he sought after so valiantly, so there was no passing it up.

It _wasn't_. They weren't really sure what it was, just that it was aggressive, strong, fast, and had an amazing handling of knives. Which Katherine found out the hard way when she went to attack it and it took the knife from her without even a struggle.

So now they were in the boys' motel room. Katherine was laying back on the bed, her arm covered with drying blood as Dean stitched up the deep gash in it, John sat at the table and stitched up his own slash from the beast, and Sam stood by with some snack cake that had a singular candle in it.

"Thanks, Sammy," Katherine practically slurred, reaching up to touch his face with her good arm. She missed, which might have something to do with the fact that Sam was standing on the opposite side of the bed. She couldn't really tell; she didn't know _what_ John gave her to help with the pain, but it really did help.

"Hey, _I_ call him Sammy." Dean finished stitching up her wound, moving to cut the thread. "Eat your damn cake...and, uh, whatever Sam got you...I totally helped pick that out." That earned him a look from his little brother.

Katherine looked up at Sam, her eyes shining with pure excitement despite how out of it she obviously was. "Is there a present?"

"Yeah, uh," he nearly laughed, having never seen her so excited before. "I'll get it, but you gotta blow out the candle first..." She immediately did as he asked, so he set the cake and extinguished candle down, moving to grab something out of his bag. "I know how you like Harry Potter so...here..." He handed her a thick book and glanced at Dean. He wouldn't _dare_ admit in front of him that he liked Harry Potter, too.

For a long moment, Katherine just stared at the book. The only sound in the room was the rustling of John and Dean putting medical supplies away. Then there was a sob.

All three men in the room froze when she began to cry. Dean didn't really know _what_ the hell to do and John may have been well-versed in dealing with a crying woman once upon time. He wasn't anymore.

Surprisingly, Sam recovered quickly and sat on the bed, gently rubbing her back. "Hey...it's...I...you don't have to take the book..."

"It's not that," she sobbed again. "I...don't know what would have happened if I didn't have you guys. I had...I had nothing. I was so afraid. But you took me in even though you don't even do that stuff and...what would I do without you?" She whimpered and sniffed, and no one could say a thing before she asked, "Please, can I have a room without an elephant in it?"

"—oookay, Kit Kat," Dean drawled. That was a rare nickname, one he usually used when he was humoring her. "Your room's next door." He picked her up out of fear of the trouble she could get in by walking to her room.

"Are there elephants?"

"No. No elephants...well, I mean, I haven't been in there, so maybe—" He stopped at her frightened whimper, clearing his throat to keep from laughing. "I'll check, okay? I'll scare them off if there are any."

* * *

 **August 8th, 2002**

 **Norfolk, Nebraska**

* * *

"Sam, get your ass back here!"

Four years. Hunting monsters. Fighting monsters and sometimes each other. Nursing wounds. Eating way too much fast food. Lying to get ahead or to get information. Those were only a few things Katherine's life consisted of now.

Almost four years.

And it certainly wasn't the first time she woke up in the middle of the night to yelling.

But it was the first time that yell scared the hell out of her for a reason other than being told that there was some monster or creature nearby. It was John, his voice filled with such fury that even the darkest being would shudder.

Part of her said not to get up out of fear, but the rest of her shot out of bed in an instant and hurriedly threw on some acceptable clothes to wear outside. She raced out of her bedroom—all of the motels in town were booked up, so they were forced to stay at a little bed and breakfast for a change—and outside to find a scene she didn't really expect.

Sam was halfway to the road, his bag of belongings over one shoulder, though he wasn't walking away. He stood facing John, despite the fury in the older man's eyes. Dean stood back with a forced look of stoicism, at least a dozen different emotions stirring just beneath his fake expression that couldn't even be missed in the dark.

"—what's going on?" Katherine asked after a moment, walking over to them.

John didn't seem to notice her presence until she came into his vision. "Sam's leaving us." He didn't even look at her. He kept his harsh glare on Sam.

"I'm not— God, Dad, if you would just—" Sam stopped short in frustration, looking over at Katherine. "I'm going to Stanford. I got accepted..."

She didn't know what to think. Oh, they had talked about this...in moments alone, when one of them couldn't sleep, they would talk. Sometimes Sam would bring up his dream of going to college and being _normal_ and _safe_ , but she had thought it was just that; a dream. She didn't know whether to be thrilled for him for getting what he wanted, or to feel hurt at his departure. For herself. For Dean. Even for John, whose pain must have been somewhere beneath his anger.

"Sam, that's...that's..."

"Horrible. He's abandoning his family," John spat out quickly. "So you hate this life, huh, Sam? You hate this life that we live to avenge your mother—"

"Mom wouldn't have wanted this! She wouldn't want her family forsaking their futures and risking their lives just to catch one demon!"

"You don't know what the hell your mother would have wanted! You didn't even know her."

Pain was immediately evident on Sam's face. "If you hate me so much—"

" _I_ hate _you_? I'm not the one who picks all these fights, Sam! I'm not—"

"I'm _going_ , Dad," Sam cut in, jaw clenched. "You can yell at me all you want, but I'm not missing out on the chance to go to Stanford."

John shook is head. "You leave, don't you even think of coming back. You understand me?"

"—Dad, wait—" Dean, ever the mediator of John and Sam's fights, tried to step in to smooth out the situation. He went ignored as Sam looked into their father's eyes and said,

"Fine." They stared at each other for a long moment. Sam's gaze eventually went to Katherine and he slowly moved to her, dropping his bag on the ground as he did. "Kat...Katherine. I want you to come with me."

That had her taken aback. "Sam, I—" She started out sounding shocked, but quickly shook her head and addressed him calmly. Emotions were high enough as it is. "Sam, there's no place for me at Stanford."

"You can stay with me! I'll get an apartment...Katherine..." He took her hand. "You don't deserve this life. You didn't deserve all that happened to you...my dad forced you into this because he wanted extra recruits." Forced? That was a strong word. Wasn't it? Her learning to hunt had been necessary. "You didn't ask for this...you should have a normal life. A _safe_ life. You should get to move on from the past. Just come with me..."

It was tempting. Yes, she was thankful to the Winchesters for taking her in after such a tragedy when she was practically a kid, and yes, hunting could be exhilirating. The adrenaline, the strength she felt when she took something down, saving people...but it was tiring, too. It was painful, and stressful, and still a little terrifying no matter how many monsters she faced.

She could see just off to the side of Sam, maybe a couple yards behind him, were John and Dean. John had started to storm inside after Sam's decision, and stopped short when he made his offer to Katherine, to see if she would leave them, too. Dean stared at them, his emotions terribly evident, bubbling just beneath the surface. Katherine was surprised he was holding it together. It was clear the his little brother was the most important thing in the world to him and now he was leaving.

She looked at Sam. "—I'm sorry." God, was she sorry, especially when Sam's face crumpled in disappointment. "I can't," she said softly, pulling her hand from his.

How could she? God knew she wasn't as important to Dean or even John as Sam was, but she couldn't abandon them. John had saved her. Dean had accepted her, and Sam had, too, but Sam was moving onto greater things. The only thing she would have with him was a couch or a bedroom in an apartment. At least with John and Dean, she could keep helping the world a little, even if it was scary. She could help _them_ by not having two people walk out on them in one night.

"There's nothing for me there, Sam. I can't just...live in an apartment. That's no reason to go somewhere."

He nodded, and to her surprise, pulled her into a hug. That made her even more sorry, realizing just how damn much she was going to miss him. He was an important piece to this strange puzzle that made it all complete. He was who she had grown closest to the last four years, who she connected to, who she could sit with for hours talking about nearly anything.

But he was getting out of this fucked up life, like he wanted. She was happy for him. Happy and pained, and both feelings had her hugging him back tightly.

"I understand," he said, pulling away. "Take care of Dean, alright?" It was almost funny that the one Dean took care of said such a thing. Almost. It wasn't. "I got a bus to catch." He grabbed his bag off the ground and glanced at all three of them, before walking to the road.

"Sammy, don't do this." It was the second time Dean spoke, his voice subtly laced with pain.

Sam paused. Dean was as important to him as he was to Dean and the pain of that conversation would have been too much, so he kept walking.

John stalked back into the bed and breakfast, slamming the door as he went.

Dean stared at the road, waiting for Sam to just turn around and come back and say it was a joke.

Katherine waited for Dean.

And waited.

And waited.

He stared at the dark road so long that she thought the sun would come up before he finally stopped looking.

Eventually, he did stop. He turned around, defeat and pain radiating off him so it could almost be seen, and he stared at Katherine. She held her hand out. He didn't take it. They walked inside, however, and he followed her to her room instead of going to his own. Neither of them slept that night.

Their relationship, which had been all bantering and helping when it was needed, changed because of Sam's departure. Not a bad change, necessarily, but a damn drastic one. Similar to before on the outside, with new layers deep down.

John changed, too. Drastically. Painfully. Adamant and wild in his hunting, going on more solo trips than ever before, closing himself off a bit more each day.

And none of them would see Sam for a long time.

* * *

 **A/N: There you go! I hope everything wasn't too confusing. There are some big time gaps and hints at things, but of course, flashbacks will likely be entered in somewhere :) I hope there weren't too many mistakes, as I finished this at around midnight and edited it this afternoon lol. And sorry if anyone was OOC, I'm doing my best here. Hope everyone enjoyed. Please review if you did! The next chapter will start off at season one.**


	2. Pilot: Part One

**A/N: Here we start with season one! Hopefully this all goes well lol. This is mostly from Katherine's "POV", as in most things will involve her. Aside from important things she has no place in! It's not a set POV, as I'm sure we'll delve into others' thoughts and feelings. But not every detail in every episode will be there (like the Halloween party in the pilot), as it's not very important and I'm not here to write out an entire script. I hope no one minds. Enjoy! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

 **Stanford University, California**

Two small hands carefully pushed open the window to the apartment, before a feminine figure slipped through gracefully, followed by a masculine figure who was more graceful than expected after so many years of training.

"—you're on my foot, Dean."

"Your foot's under mine, Kat."

Despite his response, Dean quickly moved and gently bumped his shoulder against Kat's as an apology. "We gotta find Sam. You go this way, I'll go that way." He gestured to one side of the apartment for her and the other side for him.

"It's the middle of the night," she whispered, "the bedroom would be a good place to start."

"Do you see the bedroom? This place is like a damn maze."

They went their separate ways. Kat walked quietly through the apartment, finding herself in what looked to be a living room in the dark, looking around in what she knew was a futile attempt to find Sam. It wasn't long at all before she heard grunting and struggling, and looked over to see a man get shoved into the room. He almost knocked into her, but she managed to stumble back and fall onto a couch, going unnoticed.

Dean came in, elbowing the guy in the face as he did.

She would have helped, but they were in Sam's apartment, and it wasn't easy to mistake the gargantuan height of the first man, even in the dark. So she sat back and watched, somehow a little nostalgic. Dean was getting in every move while most of Sam's attempts at hitting or kicking were blocked, until Dean finally knocked him down and pinned him to the floor, a hand loosely around his brother's throat.

"Whoa, easy, tiger."

There was some harsh panting, then Sam's confused and surprised voice, "—Dean?" The only response he got was a laugh. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." That jab seemed to strike a nerve with Sam, and he immediately grabbed Dean's arm, yanking him down and kicking him in the back to stun him, pinning him down in return. "Or not. Get off of me."

Sam moved to his feet, reaching down to help Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, we _were_ looking for a beer." Dean grinned, grabbing Sam's shoulders and giving him a playful shake.

That earned him a confused look. "We?"

"Hey, Sam," Kat finally spoke, standing up from the couch and moving to them. Being up close, being able to decipher most of his face, had her remembering how much she missed him.

"Katherine...you're still..." Hunting. Hanging around Dean. In one piece. It could have been a number of things, but he chose not to end the sentence, instead just looking at her with shock, confusion, and perhaps a hint of happiness. There was no hug this time, though. It had been three years since he left, and around two since she or Dean contacted him. Two years seemed just as bad as three in the long run.

"Yeah, I'm still."

"Sam?" A female voice called out, before the lights turned on and in came a pretty blonde, dressed in a Smurf shirt and boy shorts that were obviously her pajamas. Dean immediately took a shining to her, looking her over.

"Jess." Sam looked over. "Hey." He then looked at Dean, perhaps with a bit of contempt when he noticed the way he was looking at Jess. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait." Jess started to smile, moving further into the room. "Your brother Dean?"

"I love the Smurfs..." Even an idiot would be able to tell he wasn't talking about the characters so much as where the characters sat on the girl's chest. He walked over to her, grinning. "You know, I gotta tell you...you...are _completely_ outta my brother's league."

Kat interrupted with a clear of her throat, waving. "And I'm Kat." It wasn't like she wasn't used to Dean's womanizing, but seeing him mack on Sam's girlfriend was verging on creepy.

"Kat?" Jess looked past Dean, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Sam, who is this?"

"—who am I?" Kat looked at Sam, smiling tightly and blinking in — perhaps slightly offended — shock. "Haven't you mentioned me, Sam?" The awkward look from him told her plenty. "Did you get that, Dean? Sam hasn't mentioned me." Sure, there was no reason to mention her, really. Dean was his brother. Kat was the girl whose entire existence in their lives was woven with supernatural details. But it was still a little painful to know.

"She's...an old friend of ours." Sam's explanation was vague enough to make it obvious that Jess knew little or nothing about the more paranormal side of his life.

Dean was too busy staring at those _Smurfs_ to pay any mind to much else, seeming to make Jess a little uncomfortable. "Just let me put something on—" She turned to leave.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it." He'd likely be dreaming off the opposite. "Seriously." He nodded, as if she couldn't figure out already that he was attracted to her. She rolled her eyes and he walked back over to Sam and Kat. "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here and talk about some private, family business. But , uh, nice meetin' you."

"No," Sam said almost defensively, moving to Jess and wrapping an arm around her, "no. Whatever you wanna say, you can say it in front of her."

"Okay." Dean pursed his lips, thinking for a second, before standing straight. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift." The younger Winchester shrugged it off easily, with a veil of mocking and bitterness in his tone. "He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean and Kat shared a look, before looking back at Sam. "Dad's on a _hunting_ _trip_ , and he hasn't been home in a few days." That got through to him, and there was a long beat of silence.

"—Jess. Excuse us."

Jess looked confused, but realized that it was serious, and nodded, retreating back to the bedroom.

"—I can't believe you haven't mentioned me to her."

"Let it go, Kat. Bigger issues." Dean put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her out of the room and towards the door while Sam went to the coat rack to grab a hoodie. "You can whack Sam's balls off later," he chuckled, knowing full well she wasn't going to unleash some storm of fury on Sam, but finding the thought amusing.

The three made their way out of the apartment in a moment of silence, and it wasn't until the door was shut, sure Jess couldn't hear them, that Sam started to speak, "Was this really the way to go about this, you guys?"

"We need your help, Sam," Dean said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, _we_. You have Katherine to help you...you don't need me."

"I'm not John's son—" Kat paused. "—but wouldn't that be the plot twist of the century?" She smiled slightly at Sam's annoyed look, having seen it so many times. Usually directed at John, sometimes at Dean, and sometimes at her when she thought she was being funny. She turned to walk down the stairs with Dean, and Sam followed with a sigh.

"I mean, come on, you can't just _break in_ in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing us, Sammy. Dad's _missing_. We need you to help us find him."

Unfortunately, Sam could be stubborn when he wanted to be. "Remember the poltergeist? Amherst? Or the Devil's Gate in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's _always_ missing and he's always fine." His face was stony as he and Dean stopped at the bottom of the stairs; Kat didn't exactly want to be in the middle of whatever might transpire, so she walked an extra few feet away.

"Not for this long." Dean was more of an optimist than anyone knew as he asked, "Now, are you gonna come with us or not?"

Sam looked at Kat, then at Dean. "I'm not."

"Why not?" Somehow Dean was perplexed by this, despite how obvious Sam's dislike of hunting was.

"I _swore_ I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on." He rolled his eyes. "It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." He turned to keep walking, moving to the gated entrance of the apartment building as Sam and Kat followed.

"Yeah?" Sam scoffed. "When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45!"

"Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was _nine-years-old_. He was supposed to say..." For a split second, Sam seemed to be searching for the usual lies parents told their children to calm them. "Don't be afraid of the dark."

"The dark's not all that safe, Sam," Kat said softly. "I think we all know that firsthand."

"Yeah, I know, but the way we grew up after Mom was killed...the way you had to live after what happened to your family...Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed Mom, and we still haven't found the damn thing." Sam's voice was raising and Dean looked away uncomfortably. "So we kill everything we can find!"

"Save a lot of people doing it, too."

Kat nodded in agreement with Dean. Hunting was hell and she couldn't really blame Sam for shying away even with such dire circumstances, but saving people made it...worth it. It was one of the reasons she hadn't gone with him and it was one of the reasons she was still in the game. Among a few others.

Sam nearly laughed. "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" The night he left flashed through Dean and Kat's minds, the way he and John fought; his shouted words about his mother so similar to the ones he said now.

Instead of answering, Dean just slammed the gate open and walked up a set of cement stairs; Sam kept going, catching up to his brother to keep his attention. "The weapon training...the melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors. If that wasn't bad enough, Dad had to drag Katherine into it, too! He couldn't just save her and let her go, it had to be selfish. He had to gain another hunter, because he was so damn obsessed."

"Hey." Kat wasn't exactly defending John with her interruption, but rather the fact that she was brought into that life. It was hard, yes, but God knew where she would have been without those boys. They walked over to the Impala that waited for them; it had been around as long as she had, and probably longer. She had never been a 'car person', so she never asked a thing about it.

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life?" Dean threw his arms out, moving around to the trunk of the car. "Is that it?"

"No, not normal." Sam shook his head, eyes flickering to Kat for a split second and then back to his brother. "Safe."

"And that's why you ran away." There was a pause and Dean scoffed, looking away.

"I was just going to _college_." Even if he had been, there was little chance he was going to ever return to the hunting life. He had offered Kat that normal, safe life all those years ago. "It was Dad who said that if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble," Dean was doing his best not to snap. "If he's not dead already, I can feel it."

Kat leaned against the car, casting a sympathetic glance at Dean. "He really is in trouble, Sam. We haven't heard from him and we've tried contacting him. We can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can."

"Yeah, well, I— we don't want to." Dean's slip didn't go unheard. They both missed Sam, but the man who practically raised him and loved him with everything he had took the cake. It had been clear since the day he left how much he wanted to have Sam back, even if he didn't say it.

Sam looked between the two, seeming to struggle for a second, before finally sighing and rolling his eyes. "What was he hunting?"

With a nod, Dean turned and gave Kat a light swat on the thigh. Neither of them noticed the weird look from Sam, Kat too busy moving off the car and walking past Dean with a half-hearted glare, and Dean opening the trunk. He lifted the floor of the trunk, where weapons, supplies, and documents were neatly kept, and propped it up with a shotgun. "Alright...let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?" He began searching through.

"Brown folder, by the holy water." The look Kat got from Dean said something along the lines of him being able to find it himself. "I pay attention, you just stick things places." She realized her poor choice of words, but thankfully Dean just grabbed the aformentioned folder instead of making a comment.

"So, when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam leaned over to look in the trunk, watching Dean.

"We were working our own gig. Uh, voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

Sam smirked. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

"I'm twenty-six, dude." Dean gave him an offended look.

Kat raised an eyebrow when Sam gave her an expectant look. "I'm three months older than you. I think we can both handle ourselves, don't you?"

"Ah, here we go." Dean pulled out the documents he'd been looking for, straightening up to read it. "So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago," he handed a paper to Sam. "this guy. They found his car, but he had vanished. Completely MIA." He drawled, as Sam looked over the article.

"So maybe he was kidnapped." Sam's skepticism was odd considering what he knew.

"Yeah, well." Dean started to sift through the papers. "Here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92...ten of 'em over the past twenty years." He yanked the first paper back from his brother. "All men, all same five-mile stretch of road."

"And you can thank yours truly for digging the case up." And for probably causing John to disappear, but that was another issue that Kat wasn't going to worry about.

"Started happening more and more. Dad went to go dig around. That was three weeks go. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He reached into the trunk, pulling out a recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He pressed play.

 _"Dean."_ John's voice and a lot of crackling came from the recorder. _"Something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may...be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."_

Sam met Dean's eyes when he pressed stop. "You know there's EVP on that?"

"Not bad, Sammy." Dean grinned. "Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Then he looked back at Kat. "Why couldn't you figure that out? Points for me and Sammy."

"I don't know. I didn't go to EVP school," she said lamely. She knew Dean's comment was in jest, but she was almost upset that both he _and_ Sam had figured it out. After Sam left, John would make comments about how she was the smart one...which seemed to have gotten to her head. At least she knew about the EVP before Sam did...if only because Dean had pointed it out to her before.

Dean chuckled and started to rewind the message. "Alright, I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He pressed play, this time a woman's voice could be heard instead of John's.

 _"I can never...go...home..."_ He pressed stop.

Sam blinked in confusion and repeated softly, "Never go home..."

Dean laid the gun back down, dropping the false floor before slamming the trunk shut and turning to lean against it. "You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you. Never asked for a thing." That was a guilt trip.

"—" There was a sigh, and Sam looked down. "Alright. I'll go." He nodded. "I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here..." He started to go back to the apartment, but was stopped by Dean,

"What's first thing Monday?"

He paused. "I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it." Dean shrugged it off easily.

"It's a law school interview." Sam looked almost amused, like Dean's lack of care for things he didn't understand was funny. "And it's my whole future, on a _plate_."

"Law school?" Dean smirked, like Sam's goals were amusing. They both had skewed senses of humor, it seemed.

"So we got a deal or not?"

He stayed silent, so Sam walked back down the stairs and into the apartment building.

Kat watched him go, then walked over to sit up against the trunk of the Impala with Dean, crossing her arms. "He's really making something out of himself." She couldn't say that she wasn't impressed. Sam made it out of the life he hated and was really living the life that he wanted to live.

Maybe it made her a little sad. He would never be coming back to them and she would never be going to him; it almost scared her that her that she was mostly okay and mostly proud. She missed him, that was true, but time makes things fade. The close bond they once shared seemed more far and less close. Those deep conversations, spilled feelings, shared interests, and late night talks seemed like a thousand years ago rather than just a few.

And yet, she remembered the day their bond was forged so clearly, considering it seemed to be at least a thousand and one years ago. It was the day the boys found out about what had happened to her. She went to her motel room and wept rather pitifully over the reopened memories of what her family had become. What the Winchesters had to do. It was only a moment or two before there was a knock, then the opening of a door, then Sam's shame-filled presence. He had come to apologize and, God, _no one_ in history could have ever meant an apology more than that puppy-eyed kid. He was so earnest and sorrowful, that she couldn't even send him away to save her the embarrassment of her tears being seen; and he did stay. Though his lack of experience with crying girls was noticeable, he soon came over to the bed and sat with her, and put his hand on her shoulder. That one touch had every fact and feeling spilling from her before she could stop it. He just listened.

Kat hadn't had a bad childhood — the sudden thrust into hunting was debatable, but before that, all was well — and she was surrounded by love and support, but no one had ever listened to her like Sam did. He took in every word with sympathetic eyes and kept any embarrassment she may have felt from her tears and confessions at bay. They connected, and that's what their relationship became. Hopes, dreams, fears, hurts—they said it all to each other, feeling safe and trusting. Where Kat had no one and Sam had the non-ideal Dean or John, they suddenly found each other, knowing they could say anything without laughter, or judgment, or the fear of someone else being told. They were the closest friends either of them had ever had.

But it had been too long. Instead of wanting him to come back, to cry with him, she wanted him to help them find John and then go live his life. He had changed. In some ways, Kat changed, too.

"—seriously, Kat?"

She broke out of her thoughts, blinking at Dean. "What?"

"I've been talking to you for, like, two minutes. You're just staring off into space."

"—sorry." She turned her full attention to him. "What's up?"

"Forget it. We've had Sam back for a hot minute. You already desertin' me?" He gave a little pout, turning what was likely a valid fear of his into something not-so-serious.

"Never." She meant it. The holes that Sam had left were filled by the two of them, perhaps a bit more than he had ever filled them in the first place. For her, at least. "You know, I'm surprised Sam agreed to come."

"Eh, I'm just very persuasive."

"Or, deep down, Sam cares about your dad despite their rocky relationship."

He snorted. "Okay, Oprah."

"That was definitely more Dr. Phil than Oprah." She leaned her head on his shoulder and felt it move a bit as he sighed at her. "I guess we should just be happy that he agreed."

"Yeah. It's not like he's gonna stay, though." There was hope buried somewhere deep in Dean's tone of voice. "Back by Monday."

There was the creak and slam of a gate, before Sam came jogging up the stairs and over to the car, a bag over his shoulder. "Hey. What are you guys doing? Let's get this over with." He seemed to lack a certain enthusiasm.

Dean rolled his eyes and stood up, walking over to get in the driver's side. When Kat moved around the car to open the passenger side door, her hand landed on Sam's instead of the cool metal of the door handle. "This has kinda become my seat since your dad disappeared, Sam."

"Kat." Dean met her eyes over the roof of the car. "Let's not hurt Sam's ego."

She relented, moving her hand and opening a back door instead, getting in. Before John, that spot had been Dean's, so it wasn't like she'd gotten the front seat long enough to be attached to it; and she understood that Dean most likely wanted to sit by his brother.

"Shut _up_ , Dean." Sam glared, opening the door and getting into the seat. "You've always been the one with an ego."

"Yeah, right, college boy."

Kat sat back, shaking her head and smirking. At least there was one person in their group who didn't have a big ego. She was the most sane of the three. Definitely nothing egotistical about thinking that...right?

* * *

 **Jericho, California**

A man drove down Centennial Highway, his cell phone pressed to his ear as music played on the radio. "Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I've got work in the morning, that's why..." He grinned, laughing. "Yeah, okay, I miss it and my dad's gonna have my ass."

There was a high pitched noise that began coming from the radio, and the man, Troy, noticed a woman dancing on the side of the road, making him furrow his brow. "Amy, let me call you back?" He hung up, pulling over to where the woman stood, leaning over to speak out the window. "Car trouble or somethin'?"

The woman wore a tattered, white dress or nightgown and had no shoes. She just stared for a long moment before saying simply, "Take me home."

"Sure, get in." He reached over to open the passenger side door to let her in, which she accepted, leaning back in the seat like she was exhausted. "—so, you comin' from a Halloween party or somethin'?" He received no answer, and couldn't help but look down at the cleavage shown in the deep neckline of her dress, licking his lips before quickly looking away. "You know, um, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here."

She slowly looked at him, almost sadly, while her hand pulled her dress up to show her leg. "I'm with you." Troy looked away nervously, but she grabbed his chin and turned him back. "Will you come home with me?"

"—um." He laughed. "Hell yeah!" He immediately pulled off the side of the road with a squeal of his brakes, continuing down the highway as she directed him where to go. They soon pulled up to an abandoned-looking house and he parked the car. "Come on, you don't live here."

The woman leaned forward and looked at the house, tears falling down her cheeks. "I can never go home."

"What?" Troy leaned forward, too, to look at the house. "What are you talking about? Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?" He looked over at her, only to find that the seat was suddenly empty. He checked the rest of the car and found no sign of her, opening the door to get out and chuckling at what he thought was a joke. "That was good. Joke's over, okay?" He shut the car door, taking a few steps forward. "You want me to leave?" There was no answer. He looked around again, before starting up to the broken down porch and to the door, looking through the torn screen. "Hello?"

A bird suddenly flew right out and into his face, making him scream and fall back. He immediately scrambled to his feet, running to the car without a care for this woman anymore, getting in and rushing back out to the highway. He took a glance back, breathing deeply to calm himself down, then looked in the rearview mirror. The woman was there, staring right at him through the reflection.

He screamed again and drove straight through a sign on a closed bridge, suddenly coming to a stop right in the middle. He screamed once more and the car shook with his struggles as the woman attacked him.

Blood splattered against every window.

* * *

Kat's fingers twitched. Her brow furrowed. She groaned. She shifted a bit and felt the cool leather of the Impala's backseat against her cheek; she must have fallen asleep at some point the night before. It wasn't exactly surprising, given the fact that she had been up in the middle of the night to break into Sam's apartment. She hadn't exactly gotten any sleep before that, with planning what to do and then Dean's favorite music blasting the entire ride there.

She sat up and yawned, stretching shamelessly before she noticed Sam in the front seat, smirking slightly at her. She peeked over to see him looking through Dean's box of tapes while his legs hung out the open car door.

"Morning," he said, then returned his attention to the tapes.

"Morning." She ran a hand through her hair and leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of the front seat, and her chin on her arms. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell your girlfriend about me?"

He paused, a Metallica tape in his hand. "—uh...I dunno...I..." He looked down with a sigh. "It never came up. What was I supposed to tell her? 'Oh, by the way, I used to have this friend whose family we had to take care of because they turned into horrible monsters. She also had to live with us'."

He was right. As she had suspected, there was no real reason to mention her to Jess. She wasn't family. She wasn't an ex or something like that, so there was really no important reason for Jess to know about her. It didn't help nor hinder their relationship, so what was the point, really? No one mentions old friends to their mates.

He had brought up her family, but she gave no outward reaction. In fact, she didn't really give an inward reaction, either. That pain was there, forever, a little farther back. A little duller. So much duller it made her feel guilty sometimes.

"I get it," was all she said. She watched him as he went back to looking through the tapes. His face had matured, she noticed, if only just a little. His hair was kept shaggy like it had always been. So how did he look so different? Did time apart do that much?

She sighed and turned to look out the rolled down window to her right. They were at some rickey, old gas station, which Dean soon exited with hands full of junk food; he even had a pack of candy in his mouth, which he took out to speak,

"Hey! You want breakfast?"

Sam leaned out to glance at the food, making a face. "No, thanks."

"Yes," Kat quickly said out the window, her stomach grumbling at just the thought of food.

"About damn time you woke up." Dean set the the food on the trunk of the car, taking the gas nozzle out of the car's tank.

"So, how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asked, looking at another tape. "You guys still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." He put the nozzle back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah?" Sam laughed. "And what names did you write on the application this time?" He moved back to sit fully in the car, shutting the door.

"Uh...Bert Aframian." Dean got into the car, smirking as he set down a bottle of soda and a bag of chips. "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right." He laughed again, looking back at Kat. "What about you? Couldn't add a daughter on the application for a third card?"

"I prefer to get my money in more honest ways."

"Yeah, challenging drunk guys to a game of pool is real honest, Kit Kat."

"Dean!"

Sam chuckled yet again, looking at her with a bit of surprise. "You can play pool?"

"She can't play for shit. She just finds the drunkest guy and bets him fifty bucks." Dean grinned as Kat glared. "We're all a little dirty, you can admit it." He reached over the seat to hand her a soda and a bag of chips.

"Soda for breakfast? Ugh." She set aside the soda, but happily opened the chips, sitting back in her seat.

"You know, I was gonna say you guys haven't changed—" If only Sam knew just how wrong he was... "—but I never really thought I'd see you swindling people, Katherine."

"Kat."

"—what?"

"It's just Kat. Only your dad really calls me Katherine now..." She smiled softly. "I adapt." Or change. That pesky little word that seemed to keep popping up was an appropriate verb.

Sam nodded, turning back to the box of tapes in his lap. "—I swear, man. You _gotta_ update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?" Dean looked at him like he was stupid.

"Well, for one, they're _cassette tapes_. And two," he pulled out a tape, "Black Sabbath?" then another, "Motorhead?" then another, "Metallica?" The last one was yanked away from him by Dean, who opened the case. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music," he put the tape into the player. "shotgun shuts his cakehole." He tossed the case back into the box, giving his brother a look.

"You know, I'm gonna have to agree with Sam—"

"House rules apply to the backseat, too." He just gave Kat's glare a little smirk through the rearview mirror, before starting the car. Music immediately started blasting from the stereo.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?" So Kat wasn't the only one with a name change, though Sam's wasn't going to be respected.

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." Dean grinned, pulling out of the gas station and onto the road.

* * *

They had been on the highway for God knows how long before they passed a sign for the town of Jericho. Sam had been making phone calls on his cell and finally hung up, snapping the phone shut. "Alright. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something, I guess."

Dean stayed silent, before looking ahead as they came to police cars parked by a bridge. "Check it out."

"Check what out?" Kat leaned forward, peering out the windshield. "Well, I think we might have a clue."

"Okay, Scooby." Dean pulled the car over and turned off the engine, leaning over to open the glove compartment and pull out a box, looking through it. She didn't think it was worth the trouble or time it would take to insist that Scooby Doo wouldn't talk like that and, if anything, it was more like Fred. "Here. Just in case." He handed her an ID, before taking out a badge, smirking at Sam. "Let's go." He shoved the door open and got out.

Sam and Kat soon followed, the three of them crossing the street to the crime scene.

"You guys find anything?" A deputy stood at the side of the bridge, shouting down to a couple of men who had been searching through the water below. The answer was no and he sighed, turning away. He walked over to a car that had been abandoned in the middle of the bridge, leaning down to look through the car to another deputy that was on the other side.

"No sign of struggle. No footprints...no fingerprints...spotless. It's almost too clean."

Sam, Dean, and Kat walked onto the bridge, surveying the situation. It was just the car, really, nothing else. It may have been just a case of someone jumping off the bridge, but wouldn't those men down in the water have found a body? It was something more. It always was.

"So, this kid Troy," the first man, Deputy Jaffe, started, "he's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?"

"Puttin' up missing posters downtown."

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean said casually, catching the deputies' attention.

"—who are you?"

"Federal marshals." He flashed his badge at the deputy, lying easily. Kat and Sam stood back while Jaffe looked them over suspiciously.

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't ya?"

Kat almost couldn't blame the guy for being skeptical. They looked like a few teenagers trying to fit in, though Dean's acting helped to cover that.

He laughed. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." He walked closer to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"That's right." The deputy looked at Dean, then at Sam, and then at Kat. "About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So this victim..." Sam turned to face the man. "You knew him?"

He nodded. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean circled around the car, his hands clasped behind his back. "Any connections between the victims, besides that they're all men?" He stopped on the other side of the car, where Kat walked over to join him, moving around him to peer into the front of the car. It looked like nothing more than a recently abandoned vehicle.

"No. Not so far as we can tell."

"So what's the theory?" Sam made his way around the car, too.

"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murdering? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys," Dean said. Sam smiled tightly and stomped on his left foot, just as Kat gave a friendly smile and elbowed his right side. He flinched, but said nothing, as the deputy eyed them in confusion.

"Thanks for your time." Sam was the first to start walking off, looking around. "Gentlemen."

The deputy still looked at the three of them like they were insane as they walked off of the bridge, Sam in the lead, Kat in the back, and Dean in the middle. Dean looked back to make sure no one was looking, before he smacked Sam hard on the back of his head.

"Ow!" Sam glared at him. "What was that for?"

"Why you gotta step on my foot?"

He wasn't afraid to get in his brother's face. "Why do you have to talk to police like that?"

"Come on," Dean swept in front of him, stopping him and Kat in their tracks. "They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone in this. I mean, if we're gonna find Dad, we've gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." His eyes met Kat's and he immediately pointed to her accusingly. "Don't you think I'm not pissed about that little—" He paused when Sam cleared his throat, and turned around to see a sheriff with two FBI agents.

"Can I help you three?" The sheriff asked gruffly.

"—no, sir, we were just leaving." Dean nodded to the FBI agents as they passed. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." He luckily didn't see Kat's eye roll as the three of them headed past the sheriff and back to the Impala. Sam got in, but Dean's hand came up quickly to shut the back door when Kat tried to open it.

She looked up at him. "What?"

"Seriously?" He gestured to the side where she had elbowed him.

"You know I don't like it when you talk to people like that. They may not know what we know, Dean, but they're doing their best."

"They're not going to find shit! It's up to us."

"Dean." She reached out, squeezing his arm gently. She knew from the way he was acting and his words to Sam before, this was _all_ because of his dad. The hunt just happened to be there, too. "We will figure this out, okay? It doesn't matter if they do or not. We're gonna take care of this, then we're gonna find your dad."

He looked at her, jaw clenched, eyes searching her face for a hint of doubt or dishonesty, before he opened the car door and climbed in. She got in with a sigh, not very surprised to see Sam looking awkward in the front seat. The Impala wasn't exactly soundproof.

"What now?" Sam asked as Dean started the car, before any sort of awkward silence could occur.

"We find his girlfriend. Annie or whatever—"

"Amy." Kat and Sam corrected him in unison.

"—and question her. She's gotta have some sort of hint or something to give us a lead." He started to drive down the highway, towards the town of Jericho. It wasn't far and the town really was small. There was a girl hanging posters at a movie theater, so Dean parked the car in front of some little restaurant and they all got out without a word. "I'll bet ya that's her."

"Yeah." Sam's one-word response was the vocal equivalent of an eye roll.

They walked up to the girl as she put up posters, obviously dressed for the cool weather in furry boots and a fringed jacket. "You must be Amy," Dean said.

She barely glanced at them. "Yeah."

"Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy." He pointed to Sam, then looked at Kat. "Sammy's wife, Kat."

The two shared a look, before Sam shook his head in response to both the nickname and their sudden pairing.

"He never mentioned you to me." She started walking away.

Dean was quick to keep up with her, sighing. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." He was always a little too good at lying.

"So, we're looking for him, too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam added in, while he and Dean moved into the girl's path to stop her.

"Hey." Another girl quickly walked over, touching Amy's arm. "Are you okay?" Obviously, two imposing men getting in a young woman's way didn't exactly look very good.

"Yeah." Amy assured her with a nod, but the other girl crossed her arms when she looked at the two Winchesters.

Kat quickly swooped in, moving to push between Sam and Dean, in hopes that her presence with the boys would make them seem a little less...creepy, for lack of a better word. "Is it okay if we ask you some questions?"

* * *

Kat was still between Sam and Dean as they sat in a booth at a nearby diner, across the table from Amy and, as they had found out with a little chit chat on the walk over, her friend Rachel. She would have been squished between the boys were it not for Dean's arm being slung over the back of the booth.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and, uh," Amy sighed slightly, voice trembling with worry. "He never did."

"He didn't say anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?" Sam prodded her gently. If they could get anything even _slightly_ weird, it would be good enough.

"No. Nothing I can remember." She looked away.

As they spoke, Kat couldn't help but stare at Amy's necklace. It was simple, a silver chain with a circular pendant that held a pentagram inside it. Amy seemed more grunge than girly girl, so the necklace easily could have been something she thought was stylish...and yet...

"I like your necklace," Kat said, trying to bring it up casually. "It's a pentagram, right?" Well, it wasn't like she was about to spill every detail of information she knew about pentagrams; that was a good way to look creepy.

Amy looked down, before stroking the necklace fondly. "Thanks...Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents, with all that devil stuff..." She laughed, just as Sam did, though the latter did so for a different reason.

"Actually, it's the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil...really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing..." His explanation almost made Kat glad, since she couldn't explain it herself. Though, there went Kat's brief, unspoken theory of the girlfriend having something to do with it.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled his arm off the back of the seat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." The girls exchanged a look. "—what is it?"

Rachel shrugged, before explaining, "Well, it's just...I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean asked in unison. They may have been separated for years, but they fell back into place easily enough.

"—it's kinda this local legend." Rachel seemed hesitant, like she knew what she was about to say was silly. "This one girl...she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there." She earned an encouraging nod from Sam to continue. "She hitchikes, and whoever picks her up...well, they...disappear forever."

Bingo.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then Kat. She looked back and forth between them to let them know she got it, too, which was a bit awkward.

"Alright." Dean dug in his jacket pocket, pulling out some almost-forgotten cash that was probably enough to cover the coffee and drinks the five of them ordered, tossing it onto the table as he stood up. "We gotta get going."

"You've been a lot of help, seriously," Sam said, as he and Kat slid out of the booth.

The boys nodded their thanks and started towards the exit; Kat's steps faltered. She looked back at the girls, seeing Rachel comforting Amy, who seemed to be more distraught now that she wasn't being interrogated. She couldn't help the empathy that filled her for the poor girl; she clearly loved Troy. It didn't help that her obvious emotions and the hundreds of posters she likely put up were like a visual of Dean's own suppressed feelings of worry for his father.

"We're gonna find Troy." Maybe that was weird, coming from your boyfriend's secret Uncle Sammy's wife, but it needed to be said. "We're gonna find him, okay?" She nodded as Amy's teary eyes met hers, then turned to leave with Sam and Dean. She just hoped she could keep that promise.

She hoped there was enough left of Troy to find.

* * *

They had gone to the library to find out any information they could about the woman that Rachel had mentioned. Dean sat at a computer and typed different variations of the murder into the search page for the local newspaper, Sam sat beside him to watch, and Kat paced a bit behind them.

"Let me try." Sam got a smack on the hand from his brother when he reached over to touch the keyboard. He quickly retaliated by shoving Dean's chair out of the way, scooting his own chair in front of the computer and ignoring the hit Dean gave him on the shoulder.

"Dude! You're such a control freak," he growled, moving back over.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe it's not murder."

Kat paused in her pacing as Sam said this, walking over and leaning on the backs of the boys' chairs, watching Sam replace the word 'murder' with 'suicide'. A result immediately came up and he clicked on it, bringing up a short article with a picture of a pretty, young woman.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Say why she did it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam furrowed his brow as he read, sighing almost painfully as Dean asked what the reason was. "An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."

"Shit," Kat breathed out. "If anything's gonna bring out a pissed spirit, that's gonna do it."

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it', said husband Joseph Welch." As he scrolled through the page, a picture of a bridge came up.

Dean looked at his brother and Kat. "That bridge look familiar to you?"

* * *

They had to wait until nighttime before they could go to the bridge, sure that the cops would be gone and the car taken away. They didn't really know that they were going to find, but hoped that the ghost of Constance might show.

In retrospect, it was a pretty horrible thing to hope for.

The three walked along the bridge, stopping at one point to look out over the railing, to the water below. "So, this is where Constance took the swan dive." He felt a jab to his left side like before, glaring at Kat. "Really? Again with the elbow?"

"You could stand to be a little more sensitive."

"I'm just not a sensitive guy."

"Oh, yes, you—"

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam interrupted the growing banter, looking at Dean.

"—well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." He shrugged and moved from the railing continuing along the bridge.

Sam hesitated for a second before following, while Kat stayed behind to stare down at the water. "Okay, so now what?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." That had Sam stopping.

"Dean," frustration was immediately growing in his tone, "I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—"

"Monday." Dean finished for him, turning to face him. "Right. The interview. Yeah." He seemed calmer than Sam, but something was hiding just beneath the surface.

"Yeah."

"I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" There it was. The bitterness creeping in. Maybe it was his jealousy over Sam having that normal life right within reach, or maybe it was just that he was insulted by Sam's lack of care for their dad.

Kat just knew that she had to step in before one of them ended up thrown over the side of the bridge. "Guys, don't do this..." She walked over to them.

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam started to walk closer and Kat immediately stepped in between them, holding her hands out. "Seriously. Please. Can't we do this later? We'll have a whole ride back to Stanford." It seemed that neither of them were listening.

"No. And she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy," Dean said sarcastically. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you are." Then he turned and started walking away, and Kat thought for a blissful moment that they might just drop it.

But this was Sam and Dean. Stubborn and stubborn. Sure, she was stubborn, too, but she wasn't part of this argument.

Sam followed to continue and Kat followed to do her best at keeping it under control. "And who's that?"

"You're one of us." Dean said it like it was obvious, gesturing to Kat with a shrug.

"No," Sam practically laughed, rushing to get in front of Dean. "I'm not like you guys. This is not going to be my life."

Somehow, that stung. The implication that they chose that life, that they enjoyed every minute of it, stung. Dean did it out of allegiance to his father and Kat did it, honestly, out of loyalty to Dean, who deserved so little to be in this by himself. And, like Dean had said before, they saved a lot of people doing it. Maybe they could leave, just like Sam, but where would the world be if they did?

"You have a responsibility to—"

"To Dad? And his _crusade_?" Sam's words were stinging Dean, too. It could be seen in his eyes, where his emotions usually stayed. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

That broke the usual mask that Dean's emotions hid behind. He immediately grabbed Sam by the collar and shoved him against the railing.

"Dean!" Kat ran after them, a hand going to his shoulder. Partly to keep him from doing something he would regret. Partly to comfort him. His shoulder relaxed beneath her touch, as he stared at Sam for a long moment.

"Don't talk about her like that."

Kat didn't move her hand until Dean finally released Sam. She sighed with relief as the argument finally seemed to be over, and turned away. That's when she saw it. A woman stood on the railing, ready to jump, her dress blowing in the wind. "—Dean. Sam."

They turned to look on in confusion as the woman glanced at them. Then stepped off.

The three of them immediately ran to the other side of the bridge, like they could catch her even though she had already jumped. "Where'd she go?" Dean asked. The water below was empty.

"I don't know."

Kat's eyes scanned the water. "Wasn't that—"

The sound of a car starting filled the air and a bright light suddenly cast over them. They looked over to see the light coming from the Impala's headlights. Dean furrowed his brow, moving away from the railing. "What the—"

"Who's driving your car?"

"Did you leave the keys in or somethi—" Kat's words faltered to almost a whimper when Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket. _This_ was certainly something new to them.

As if on cue, the car immediately squealed out of its parking spot, heading right towards them and gaining speed quickly.

"Dean—" Sam grabbed his brother. "Go, go!"

Dean quickly grabbed Kat, pushing her in front of them as they started running as fast as their legs could carry them. Unfortunately, no matter how much time they had spent running in their lives, they weren't faster than a car. It was gaining on them too quickly.

"Kat, jump, now!"

She didn't know if it was Sam or Dean who said that, and frankly, she didn't care or intend to argue. She grabbed onto the railing and vaulted over the side of the bridge, soaring down to the water below.

She thought she'd expect it when she hit the water, but she didn't. It was colder, and rougher, and deeper than she could have imagined, and she didn't get the best breath in before she went under, immediately struggling to get to the surface. It felt like hours before her head finally made it above water and she gasped for air, looking up to see she had ended up under the bridge. "Dean!" She cried out, looking around. "Sam!"

"Kat? Where are you?" Sam's voice came from above.

"Under the bridge, I—" She sputtered as she got a mouthful of water, kicking her legs to stay above the surface.

"Kat! Come on! Over here!"

Oh, God, it was Dean. He was somewhere ahead of her. She wasn't the best swimmer, but she was going to be that night, as she kicked and swam until her feet finally touched the bottom. She did her best to walk, though jumping off a bridge and swimming for her life was a touch exhausting and she felt heavy from her soaked clothes, so she had fallen to her hands and knees by the time she made it to land, collapsing next to an extremely muddy Dean Winchester. "We're never doing that again." She was panting slightly. No monster or hunt had ever exerted her as much as that water did.

"Oh? You didn't want to go for another ride?"

She would have glared it him, but instead directed it at Sam, who let out a chuckle from where he was on the side of the bridge. "That better have been a laugh of relief for our well-being, Sam Winchester!"

"Come on, Kat." Dean got up, taking her hand and gripping it tightly when their hold nearly slipped from the mud, steadying her on her feet. "You okay?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"Been better."

They made their way back up to the bridge, still gripping each other's hands tightly once they were on safer ground, neither of them really noticing. It wasn't until they made it to the Impala and Sam cleared his throat that they realized, pulling away from each other. Kat leaned against the car and Dean went to check the engine.

"Hey," Sam's soft voice had Kat looking up. "Are you okay?" Eyes full of concern. The Sam she once knew flickered across his face, sweet and caring and _there_.

The desire for him to come back flickered in her, but it left as soon as it came. He had an interview on Monday. He had Jessica. He had a life, and she chose hers the day he went off to find his. She really did choose it, didn't she? She couldn't be hurt by his words from before now. They all made choices and he had given her a new one. She was the one who passed him up on it.

"I'm fine, Sam." She did her best to smile. Why was being around Sam again so painful and complicated? Why didn't she expect it to be that way?

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer, and sauntered over to Dean. "Car alright?"

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems alright now." Dean shut the hood of the car. "That Constance chick, what a _bitch_!" He shouted out into the empty air, as if she were listening.

"That's the kind of thing that's gonna get her trying to run us over again, Dean-o." Kat moved around to the front of the car, sitting on the hood of the car as Dean did.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Sam looked around, before sitting on what room was left of the hood. "So where's the job go from here, genius?" All Dean could do was shrug in frustration. Sam sighed, sniffed, and paused, "—you smell like a toilet."

* * *

Kat leaned against the Impala, waiting outside a motel for Sam and Dean to check out a room for them. She was positive she smelled just as bad as Dean, so maybe baking in the sun wasn't the best idea, but it was better than the weird look she'd get from the clerk. It gave her time to think anyway.

About how, even though a few fights were being picked here and there, things were starting to feel like the old days. The car ride to the motel had been jokes and bantering, probably because they were all a little delirious. Even Sam had lightened up considerably.

She had already come to terms with him leaving twice — once when he left, again when it was definitively confirmed that he'd be back at Stanford by Monday — and now she was going to have to miss him again. It wasn't fair. She was always going to want to let him go and also have him stay. It made her feel insane to be so indecisive.

At least it wouldn't be as hard as the first time. This wasn't really the Sam she missed. This was hardly even a Sam she knew, even if there were little glimpses of him there.

"Kat," Dean called to her as he and Sam walked out. "Come on, get up."

She pushed off the car, following them. "You shouldn't rush me. I'm getting the shower first, you know."

"Couldn't care less. Our dad got a room here."

"Wait, what?"

Well, that had to be yet another thing she hadn't expected.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow, that was long. I had to stop it somewhere! The next chapter should be the rest of the pilot. I hope that wasn't too bad lol...I'm sorry if it was a little rough. Things should get better and more collected as the episodes go on. I also apologize for any grammatical errors, this was another chapter I finished in the middle of the night and edited today. I'm just hoping you could all follow it! I hope you all enjoyed it. Review if you want!**


	3. Pilot: Part Two

**A/N: Here's the rest of the pilot! I hope you're all enjoying it so far. Hopefully things will pick up with time lol**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

Kat stood with crossed arms, watching Sam pick the lock to John's hotel room while Dean kept a look out for anyone. Sam had always been exceptional at picking locks, so she wasn't surprised he had remembered, but was a little surprised that he was so willing to do it. Maybe he was just hoping John was in there so he could go back to college and live his normal, safe life.

There was a click and then Sam carefully pushed the door open, taking out the lock pick as he did so, before moving into the room. Kat crept into the room, not really sure _why_ she felt the need to be quiet, but knowing it was always better to be safe than sorry. There could always be something lurking around when they least expected it. She nearly jumped when Sam quickly reached past her, sighing when he pulled an oblivious Dean into the room after them and slammed the door shut. She shook her head with an amused smile and turned to survey the room.

"—oh my God." The room was a shambles. Every single surface was covered with one thing or another. Salt canisters and equipment covered an end table, while various books covered the other as well as the complimentary desk that sat along one wall of the room. Even the bed was put to use, the covers all rumpled and even more equipment on that, as well as an open suitcase. The only thing that was slightly organized were papers and photos pinned to almost every inch of available wall space. Clues? Connections? John had clearly been doing some thorough work while he was there; but he didn't seem to be there now.

Dean went over to turn on a light, allowing the three of them to get a better look. There was a ring of salt around the perimeter of the door, which Sam and Kat stepped over carefully, so as not to disturb it. "You'd think he was running away from something..." She shuddered to think how easily that could be true. She looked around, then caught sight of Dean out of the corner of her eye, sniffing a forgotten fast food burger. "Seriously?" At least he had the decency to look disgusted over how it smelled.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days, at least." He tossed the burger back down where he'd found it.

Sam crouched down by the salt, picking some up. So much for that whole 'being-careful-not-to-disturb-the-salt' idea. "Salt? Cats-eye shells? He was worried." He dropped the salt and stood up. "Kat's right, it's like he was running from something...trying to keep something from coming in."

"I mean, he was hunting the same ghost we are, right?" Kat walked over to some papers on the wall that Dean was looking at. "Maybe he was trying to keep her away? Though I can't imagine she'd leave the highway or the bridge..."

"What do you got here?" Sam moved over.

"Centennial Highway victims." Dean's eyes scanned over each individual paper that his dad had put up. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

"Maybe they all knew Constance?" Kat sighed, shaking her head. "No, that doesn't make any sense. Troy probably wasn't even born yet when Constance killed herself." She looked over when another light turned on, seeing Sam looking at another wall of papers. "What's up?"

"—Dad figured it out."

Now Dean looked over. "What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

Dean turned back to look at the photos of the victims. "You sly dogs..."

"Wait, a woman in white? Isn't that, like..."

"She kills men who are unfaithful." Sam continued to look at the wall.

"Oh." Kat pursed her lips. "So, basically, the connection between these guys is that they're all sleazeballs? Or _sly dogs_?" She gave Dean a look, which made him quick to change the subject.

"Alright, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness."

"Well, Dad would wanna make sure." He walked to where Sam was standing. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." Sam reached out to tap on the article, over a picture of Constance's husband, Joseph Welch. "If he's still alive."

"Is he a sleazeball, too?" Kat moved next to Dean, looking at a picture that was apparently a depiction of a woman in white. "You know what's nice? I can't be bait for this if she is a woman in white. If necessary, I volunteer you." She bumped her shoulder against Dean's to let him know she was joking.

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not gonna be any use to us, then how's about you find the husband's address? I'm gonna get cleaned up."

"I have to get cleaned up, too, you know."

"Unless you wanna conserve water, you're just gonna have to wait." He gave her a smirk, before going towards the bathroom.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam's voice stopped him. "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad...I'm sorry—"

Dean quickly held up a hand. "No chick-flick moments."

"Alright," Sam laughed, "Jerk."

"Bitch." With that, Dean retreated into the bathroom to shower.

Kat watched the exhange with a little smile. Throughout her time with them, she had heard those two names a good handful of times. It somehow showed the love they had for each other. It was weird, sure, but it didn't matter how weird something was if it worked. And, though it wouldn't last, she enjoyed seeing them be brothers again. Dean needed it; Sam probably needed it, too.

Maybe it would last. Sam would go back to college, but maybe the two brothers could have a relationship again. Separation and Sam's strict no hunting policy didn't mean they couldn't visit each other and meet up places, have lunch, do whatever it was that brothers do.

Maybe she could have a relationship with Sam again. It may not be as close, now that he had Jess to be his confidant, but it would still be nice to have even half of their friendship back.

She looked over at him, saw him looking fondly at a picture of John with two little boys who weren't hard to figure out, and walked over with a smile. "Too bad I didn't get to be around when you two were that cute."

"Hmm?" He glanced at her. "Oh. Right. At least I was still kinda cute..."

"Ah, you've both always been cute. Adorable, even." They had their moments anyway. She couldn't say they were precious _all the time_.

Sam smiled slightly, putting the picture into his pocket. "So..." His voice suddenly sounded a bit more serious. "You and Dean have gotten close, huh?" His hands went into his pockets and he moved back across the room as Kat insinctively followed.

"Dean and me? I mean...yeah..." For a second, she was puzzled as to why he brought it up; then she remembered those changes. Sam had noticed.

"I'm not ragging on you or anything, it's just...last time I saw you guys, all you did was bicker, you know? Now...you're still bickering, but something seems...different. I mean, the hand-holding on the bridge?"

"—you left, Sam." She hastened to explain herself when he started to look upset. "And I'm not saying that to hurt you or guilt you...but it's just been Dean and me since then. John's there, yeah, but...you get what I mean. It's just been Dean and me." She nodded, and he looked dissatisfied, but she moved past him anyway. "I'm gonna go find out that address, okay?"

* * *

Kat had found the address for Joseph Welch's house and Dean was still in the shower, so she had taken to a little sink that the motel room had against the wall near the bathroom door, cleaning up as best as she could with hand soap and a cloth. She wouldn't exactly enter a beauty pageant in her current state, but at least she looked and smelled nearly presentable considering what little she had to work with. Most of the mud was out of her hair, at least.

She could _just_ hear a feminine voice and looked over to see that Sam was on his phone, presumably listening to a voice mail or something from Jess.

"All yours, Kat." Dean walked out of the bathroom, no less than squeaky clean. Kat almost coveted him in that moment. "I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street." He grabbed his jacket and pulled it halfway on. "You guys want anything?"

Sam, seeming to create a pattern here, immediately said, "No."

"Aframian's buying." Another denial from Sam, so he looked at Kat. "I know you gotta be hungry by now."

Damn if he wasn't right. "French fries? It's been a while since I've had any that don't come in a paper bag." She watched him go, then headed into the bathroom, figuring he'd take long enough for her to get in a quick shower.

Alright. Maybe the light was too dim in the other room. Sure, she wasn't caked with mud, but she still looked like a wreck. An exhausted, still-slightly-damp wreck. Her face looked mostly clean, the only problem there was the bags under her eyes; she hadn't slept since before they got to Jericho, and the 'jumping off a bridge' thing didn't help matters much.

She had just turned away from the mirror and started to take off her stiff, dirty shirt when Sam suddenly burst through the door. "Sam! What the—"

"Out the window, now." He locked the door behind him.

"What's going on?" The only answer she got was a shove towards the window. "Alright, alright." She conceded, knowing full well that he had a very good, urgent reason to want her out the window. She climbed up onto the toilet tank and shoved the window open, pulling herself through. It was a tight fit, but she managed to wiggle through it and jump down to the ground below. She was genuinely surprised that Sam actually got out without too much trouble.

Something really bad was happening if someone like him could fit through a window like that.

"Sam, what's going on? Is it the woman in white?"

"Worse." He skulked around to the corner of the building and Kat followed his lead, both of them glancing around to the parking lot. "Cops. They spotted Dean." They both winced as there was a slam, followed by a voice reading Dean the Miranda rights. "We're gonna have to keep going without him. You got the address?"

"Um, yeah, but Dean's being arrested. What are we gonna do about this?"

"It's Dean. He'll be fine."

"And if he's not?"

"—he'll be fine. Shh, shh." He pushed her back behind the motel, pressing against the wall next to her and listening. There was a door slam. Two voices. Two more door slams. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a car starting and wheels moving along asphalt. "Wait here, okay?" He cautiously moved around the building.

She would have let him know that she was _perfectly capable_ of checking for danger as much as he was, but getting arrested wasn't on the top of her to-do list. Sam's hand appeared from around the corner, signaling for her to come, and she quickly followed him out to the parking lot. No one was towing away the Impala, which was a plus given the current twist of events.

Sam sighed. "Time to pay Joseph Welch a visit."

* * *

Dean sat at a table in the sheriff's office, watching as the sheriff walked in and set down a box of of papers. "So you wanna give us your real name?"

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent."

The sheriff just looked at him. "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talkin' like misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" He always had to be a smart ass.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall, along with a whole lotta Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

"That makes sense." Dean sighed. "'Cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was _three_."

"I know you got partners, _one_ of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." The sheriff reached into the box, taking out a journal. "So tell me, _Dean_ ," he stressed the name to let him know he _knew_ , before tossing the journal onto the table. "This is?" He came around and sat on the table when all Dean did was stare at the book, and he moved to go through a few pages. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this...what little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy, but I found this, too." He finally stopped on a page that had 'DEAN 35-111' written in a circle. He looked at Dean when he leaned forward to look. "Now, you're stayin' right here 'til you tell me _exactly_ what that means."

All Dean did was stare for a long moment, before looking at the sheriff with a shrug.

* * *

Sam and Kat trudged up the driveway to Joseph Welch's house, the latter sighing. "I wish I had gotten a shower in. He may find me...a bit disconcerting. Hey, maybe he'll think I'm some sort of swamp monster and tell us everything he knows out of fear." All she got from Sam was a look as he knocked on the door of the house.

A moment passed, before an aging man opened up the door, and Sam quickly put on a bright smile. "Hi! Are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah." The man said with a smile so unexpectedly sweet that Kat kind of felt bad for calling him a sleazeball before.

"I'm Sam and this is my...partner, Katherine." He may have left out surnames and lied about their relationship, but he didn't seem keen on making up fake names like Dean and John liked to. She wasn't sure if he'd forgotten from being out of hunting for so long, or he was just a better person than the three of them. Maybe a little bit of both. "We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

Joseph looked at them a little strangely for a moment, before agreeing and stepping out of the house, shutting the door. He nodded for them to walk with him. "A fella came by here, wantin' to ask questions."

"We're actually looking for someone, and were wondering if he came by here." Sam took the photo of him, Dean, and their dad out of his pocket, handing it to Joseph. "Is this him?"

"—yeah, he was older, but that's him." He handed the photo back. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right, we're working on a story together."

"Three of you on one story?" He looked back at them with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?"

"About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried."

"And where is that again?" Sam wasn't great at subtlety sometimes. Sure, the inflections in his question were just right, but just flat out asking was weird. Even for a 'reporter'.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?"

"It's fact-checking." Kat quickly chimed in. "Besides, with him being MIA and all, we want to make sure we all have the same information."

Joseph sighed. "In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?" Sam asked.

"I'm not gonna live in the house...where my children died."

They stopped walking. Now Kat felt _really bad_ for calling him a sleazeball before. Yeah, possibly cheating on his wife did make him horrible, but he was still human and still lost his kids just as much as Constance did.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" She couldn't help the look she gave Sam when he asked that. What did that have to do with anything?

"No way. Constance...she was the love of my life." He smiled almost sadly. "Prettiest woman I ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?"

Now she got it. Sam was pushing Joseph to see if he had been unfaithful; if he had pushed Constance into being a woman in white. The slight hesitation before he answered said just about everything.

"—definitely."

Sam looked at Kat, before nodding, "Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time." He gestured for Kat to follow them and they moved to get in the Impala while Joseph started back towards his house. "You think he knows?"

"I highly doubt it. He just seems like a normal guy..."

He nodded again. A moment passed before he called out, "Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?"

Joseph turned around. "A what?"

"A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?" All he got was a stare, so he continued on in hopes of getting some sort of information. "It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomen, really..." He put the car keys into his pocket, walking back over to Joseph. "Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand?" He stopped to stand in front of the older man. Kat decided to hang back by the car, not wanting to make them look any crazier than Sam was. "But all share the same story."

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." Joseph started to walk away again and Sam only followed. Now Kat _had_ to join, a bit fearful that this situation might end up like the little scuffle on the bridge if Sam pushed him too much.

"See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." That got Joseph to stop again. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children." Sam's words were gentle, but made the man turn around. "Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

Joseph's bottom lip was quivering from emotion. "You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance?" He moved closer to Sam. "You smart ass?"

"You tell me."

"Sam..."

"I mean...maybe...maybe I made some mistakes." Tears were gathering in his eyes. "But no matter what I did, Constance _never_ would have killed her own children. Now you get the hell out of here! And you don't ever come back." He was shaking, glaring at Sam for a long moment, before he turned and walked away.

"We're sorry, sir!" Kat called out to him. What more could she say? It was clear that he _had_ cheated on Constance and she really _was_ the woman in white. All she could do was apologize for upsetting him, for letting him wonder if it were his fault that his children were gone. He didn't even want them there now, so it wasn't like she could make up some lie about how they had mixed something up or thought wrongly. She sighed and reached out to tug on Sam's sleeve. "Let's get out of here, okay?" They moved back to the Impala. "We can get a bite to eat, think things through...rescue Dean, probably."

* * *

It wasn't until after the sun set that they were back on the highway, on the way to Breckenridge Road to take care of Constance's body under the cover of night, to lower the risk of being seen just in case anyone passed by. They had had a late lunch, got all the supplies they needed to get rid of the bones, and, lastly, did what they could to get Dean out of trouble.

Sam's phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, flipping it open.

 _"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don't know, that's pretty illegal."_

"Hey, it was Kat's idea. I just did the dirty work." He grinned. Kat didn't share in his glee, instead looking out the window with her arms crossed.

Something just felt...wrong.

 _"Listen, we gotta talk."_

"Tell me about it. So the husband _was_ unfaithful. We _are_ dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

 _"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"_

"I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

 _"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho."_

"What? How do you know?"

 _"I've got his journal."_

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

 _"Yeah, well, he did this time."_

"What's it say?"

 _"Ah, it's the same old ex-marine shit, when he wants to let us know where he's going."_

"Coordinates. Where to?"

 _"I'm not sure yet."_

"Sam, stop the car." Kat blurted it out before she could stop herself. There was just a large amount of pressure and _wrongness_ , and she felt like she was going to pass out right there if she didn't get some fresh air. "Sam, stop the car right now!"

"Ho-hold on, Dean." Sam honestly looked a little scared as he glanced at Kat, slowly stopping the car. "Kat, are you okay?"

She didn't answer him, shoving the car door open and stumbling out. Immediately, the horrible feeling lessened as she breathed in the cool night air. Of course, it could only last so long, before she saw Constance standing there in the middle of the dark road.

"What could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam had carried on the conversation with Dean, though he kept casting worried looks at Kat.

"Sam...Sam?" She glanced away for just a second, and when she looked back, the road ahead of the car was empty.

"—take me home." She heard a female voice and turned to look, seeing a figure sitting in the back seat of the car. "Take. Me. Home."

"—no. Kat, get in the car, _now_."

She didn't need to be told twice. That wrong feeling from before practically forgotten, she moved to get back into the car. Unfortunately, the door slammed shut and there was a familiar clicking sound of the locks. "Sam!" She grabbed onto the door handle, but of course, it wasn't going to open. She could see Sam through the window, trying to unlock the door to no avail. That feeling had to have been Constance's doing, right? Somehow she had manipulated something, to get her out of the car, to get to Sam. Had Sam been unfaithful to Jess? It was impossible. It was _Sam_.

Dean was right about Constance. What a bitch.

There was no time to dwell on that, though, as Kat had to quickly jump out of the way as the car started to drive. "Sam! Shit!" She may not have been fast enough to outrun a car that was chasing after her, but she hoped and prayed she had more of a chance to run after a car and chase _it_ instead.

She ran faster than she ever had in her damn life. She wasn't about to let Sam get killed by some crazy ghost with a grudge, though later she would be thankful that the house wasn't too far and that the car stopped just outside of it; it wasn't like she was prepared to run a marathon here. Still, she was panting slightly as she caught up to the now parked car, trying fruitlessly to get one of the doors open. "Sam!"

Sam sat in the front seat still, looking at Constance through the rearview mirror. "Don't do this."

"I can never go home," she said sadly, staring at the house.

"—you're scared to go home." Suddenly, she was gone from the mirror and Sam turned to look at the empty backseat. When he turned back, she was sitting in the passenger's side, wasting no time in climbing onto him, slamming him down hard enough to recline the seat and make him groan in pain.

"Hold me...I'm so cold..."

Kat had given up on opening the door, looking around instead for something she could break the window with. Dean might kill her, but she was sure he'd forgive her if it was all to save his brother. "Come on...come on...iron would be real convenient right now!" She glared up at the sky as if someone up there could drop down an iron rod or something.

"You can't kill me." Sam did his best to ignore Constance's advances, the way she was rocking against him. "I'm not unfaithful. I never have been."

"You will be," she threatened, before cupping his face and kissing him deeply.

He grunted in disgust, reaching past her, trying to get a hold of the car keys, when she suddenly sat up. She flickered, her face looking far more torn apart and a lot less pretty than it had before, and she disappeared. It couldn't have been that easy, right? Nothing had even happened to stop her. A sharp, strong pain suddenly bloomed in his chest and he cried out, hurriedly unzipping his hoodie to see five holes burned into his shirt.

"Please, for the love of..." For an old, broken down house, it sure as hell didn't leave any parts around for anyone to break a car window with. It may have been an oddly specific need, but that didn't mean it was too much to ask. Kat was about to rip something straight off the house when she heard Sam's cry. "No!" She ran to the window, seeing Constance on top of him, slowly digging her hand into his chest. " _Sam_! Get off of him!" She felt helpless, smacking her palms on the glass, willing it to break so she could try to take the ghost on without any weapons.

"Kat, get down!" A gruff, wonderfully familiar voice shouted behind her. She ducked down just as several gunshots went off, shattering the window. She scrambled out of the way and stood up, watching Constance disappear and reappear, only for more bullets to enter the car until she disappeared again.

Sam, still groaning in pain, quickly sat up and started the car. "I'm taking you home!" He slammed down on the gas pedal, driving the car straight up the driveway and in through the front of the house.

"Sam!" Dean shouted after him like the hero he didn't think he was. He ran to the house with Kat hot on his heels, stopping for just a second and holding his hand out to keep her back just in case something was amiss, before nodding and continuing inside. "Sam! You okay?" He moved up to the car.

"I think..."

"Can you move?" He yanked the door open.

"Yeah. Help me?"

Dean leaned in to pull Sam out of the car, not getting another word in before Kat ran over and grabbed onto the younger Winchester. "Are you okay? Shit, Sam, I tried to do something..."

"I know, Kat, I know—" He suddenly flinched, pulling her back protectively between himself and Dean.

Constance stood ahead of them, though she wasn't paying them any attention. She stared sadly at a photo she was holding. Suddenly, her eyes snapped up and she glared at them, tossing the picture aside. A dresser against one wall slid forward, slamming against them before they could react and pinning them to the car. Any one of them probably could have shoved that dresser away by themselves, but Constance's power kept it there no matter how hard the three of them pushed. She started towards them, clearly not caring about gender or fidelity now.

"I felt bad for you before, Constance, but now?" Kat grunted, pushing the dresser uselessly. "I don't really know how I feel. Kind of pissed." If she was going to go out because of a ghost, she didn't want to go out whimpering.

The lights suddenly turned on, flickering. Even Constance looked around in confusion, turning as water started to drip down the stairs. She stared at the top of the stairs, at two children who stood there, and she flickered in and out of sight until she stood at the bottom.

All Dean, Sam, and Kat could do was stare in confusion and disbelief.

The children joined hands, speaking in unison, "You've come home to us, Mommy." They suddenly appeared behind her and she turned to face them, letting out a scream as they quickly embraced her. She screamed over and over, face changing spastically from beautiful to gruesome, she and the children seeming to be dragged into the floor.

Dean flinched, Sam cringed uncomfortably, and Kat closed her eyes tightly. None of them had ever witnessed something like that before, and it was difficult to watch. Constance and her children turned into a puddle on the floor and even most of the puddle evaporated, all power leaving the room.

"—what was that?" Kat slowly opened her eyes, helping the boys to shove the dresser over, before they walked to the little bit of water left on the floor.

"So this is where she drowned the kids." Dean looked at his brother.

Sam nodded. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"It almost makes me feel bad for her again. Too bad she was _horrible_."

Dean let out a little laugh. "Yeah. At least you found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." He gave Sam a slap on the chest, right where Constance had been digging her way in. Kat gave him a horrified look, reaching out to give Sam a comforting squeeze on the shoulder as he laughed in reaction to the pain.

"Yeah, wish I could say the same for you." He gave her a grateful look as he addressed Dean, turning to watch his brother walk to the car. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey! Saved your ass. I mean, what was Kat doing? Trying to break the damn window with her fists."

"Excuse me? I spent a good couple of minutes looking around for something to break the window open and save him. You'd think an old house like this would lose a piece of wood or something, but no."

"I keep telling you to carry around a gun. You can't be the one to save the day every time anyway, Kat." He ignored her glare, bending over to look over the Impala. "I'll tell you another thing, Sam. If you screwed up my car..." He looked back at his brother. "I'll kill you."

* * *

The car was still in working condition at least. They were going back down the highway just fine, Dean driving as per usual, while Sam used a flashlight and a map to check the coordinates John had left, while Kat sat in the backseat in an exhausted silence.

"Okay, here's where Dad went." Sam traced a line on the map. "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"Sounds charming." Dean nodded. "How far?"

Sam looked over the map again. "About six hundred miles."

"Hey, if we shag ass, we could make it by morning."

There was a small beat of awkward silence. "—Dean, I...um..."

"You're not going."

"The interview's in, like, ten hours. I gotta be there."

Kat, despite her exhaustion, could see and feel Dean's disappointment from the backseat. She always could. But he wasn't a man who vocalized his feelings, so he just said, "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

And he did. The rest of the ride was completely silent aside from Dean's music, which was even turned down lower than usual. Kat was dozing off by the time they pulled up to Sam's apartment, not really meaning to, though unable to stop herself now that there was a moment of rest.

The door immediately creaked open and then slammed shut, and Sam leaned down to look into the window. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, alright." Dean nodded, not really believing him.

"Kat?" Sam's voice made her alert as he moved to the back window. "Hey...sorry...I know you're tired. Me, too. I didn't want to go without saying bye."

She gave him a little smile. "Bye, Sam."

"Bye." He chuckled. "It's been...nice, honestly. I missed you."

"Missed you, too."

"How's about I just call you in a couple days? I'm not really sure how much of this is something you mean and how much is just you repeating what I'm saying."

She blinked until she could focus, sitting up a bit straighter and looking right at him. "I missed you, Sam. Good luck with your interview."

"Thanks, Kat." He smiled, tapping on the door. There was no hug now either. It had still been too long, and a day or two of hunting didn't fix much. He had started to walk away when Dean called out to him, making him turn back.

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there." They had always made a good team. Dean and Kat made a good team, too, but Sam made it...perfect, almost.

He smiled again, nodding slightly. "Yeah."

Dean started the car, putting it in drive and pulling away from the curb. Only a few seconds passed before Kat left the backseat, crawling over the back of the front seat and sitting close to Dean, resting her head on his shoulder. Maybe it was so she could have a pillow. Maybe it was so he could have a little comfort. Maybe it was both.

She had just started to doze off again when that horrible feeling of complete and utter _wrongness_ took over again. At first, her tired mind wondered if Constance was still alive — alive? Around? What would a ghost be considered? — and had somehow followed them.

But Constance had clearly been dragged into some pit of hell by her children.

And this time felt different.

She felt the urgent need to see Sam. Maybe she missed him or he forgot something, she wasn't really sure, but she just knew that they needed to go back. She immediately sat up, earning a confused glance from Dean. "—Dean..."

"You can sleep. It's alright," he said as nonchalantly as he could, trying to pass off his offer as tolerance rather than enjoying her closeness.

"No...that's not..." She shook her head. "Can we go back?"

"What?" He gave her another bemused look, before returning his eyes to the road. "You wanna go back and hug Sammy, don't ya?"

"No...I..." The farther the car went, the more unbearable the feeling became. She couldn't focus on anything except for getting back to Sam. "Turn the car around, _now_." Her tone was far more serious than she had planned, the words nearly growled out.

Dean was no fool. He immediately did a U-turn without a care for any cars that may have been passing, driving right back to Sam's apartment. "Kat, what's going on? You okay? I heard you telling Sam the same sort of shit when we were on the phone."

"Something's _wrong_ , Dean. Maybe I'm just crazy...I don't know. But something just doesn't feel right." She was so confused. Before it had just been Constance manipulating something to get her out of the car, hadn't it? So why was a feeling so similar happening now? Certainly, if Constance was _somehow_ still around and had _somehow_ followed them to get Sam like she wanted, she wouldn't give Kat the urge to go back. She hoped she was just crazy from being so tired.

She wasn't.

When they pulled back up to the apartment, smoke and the bright, glowing light from flames could be seen through the window. "Dean—"

"Shit!" He immediately threw the car into park and both of them jumped out instantly, doors forgotten and left hanging open. They had made it to the bottom of the steps before Dean turned around and pushed Kat back. "Stay out here."

"But, Dean, it's—"

"You stay out here!" He looked into her eyes, letting her know just how serious he was. "You understand me?"

"—yes." She hated to agree to staying behind, wanting nothing more than to go in there and get Sam out, but knew Dean wouldn't hesitate to lock her up somewhere. She watched as he ran up the stairs and kicked the door in, calling out for Sam before he headed into the building.

Only seconds had passed, and she was already beginning to pace back and forth, biting her nails nervously. She thought she had felt helpless back in Jericho, weaponless and unable to get into the car and get to Sam. Now both Dean and Sam were inside a burning building and she couldn't do a damn thing without upsetting Dean.

When a minute came and went, she was about ready to run in anyway. She cared about Dean too much to care about upsetting him, which made sense in a roundabout way. She cared more about saving his life than pissing him off.

Just as she was gearing up to go in and save them both, they stumbled out and down the stairs. Dean was practically dragging Sam out as he struggled to go back inside, calling out for his girlfriend in obvious desperation.

"Jess! _Jess_! Get off of me!" He finally tore away from Dean, stumbling away and right into Kat from the force of his release.

She caught him, in a way, both of them falling to the ground. "Sam? Sam?" She cupped his face, trying to get him to look at her. Ghosts were scary. Constance was pretty damn frightening in her own right. But nothing terrified her more than seeing one of her boys as distraught as this.

"Jess..." He whimpered her name pitifully now, voice breaking, and he wasn't even struggling anymore. He had all but given up, sobs leaving his lips and tears pouring down his face, and he didn't put up a fight when Kat brought his face to her chest.

They were hugging, finally, and it was awful. Sam clung to Kat like she was the only thing keeping him from sinking into the ground, his pain radiating from his fingertips in the way they bit into her back through her shirt. She didn't care about the pain, though, too focused on comforting him in all of the worthless ways she could; one arm wrapped around him tightly, while her free hand stroked his hair, and she whispered all of that bullshit nothingness that people always did. Anything to help him. Anything to _try_. Time didn't matter anymore. They could have been separated for a dozen years, and it still wouldn't have made her heart indifferent to his pain.

Her eyes met Dean's over Sam's head, silently asking the question that she already knew the devastating answer to. He nodded. She closed her eyes against the tears that filled them. She couldn't cry for Jess, really, having only known her for a couple days and only spoken to her for less than a minute, but Sam..oh, God, _Sam_. Sam, who was _so good_. Sam, who never wanted anything to do with the cursed life of hunting. Sam, who longed so desperately for a normal life, a _safe_ life where monsters didn't exist and smart kids achieved their dreams. Sam, whose dream was right there for him, waiting to be picked up, only for life to tear it away as if to tell him he would never have that dream. Once a hunter, always a hunter. Happiness is less of a choice and more of a myth.

Someone had apparently called for help at some point, sirens filling the air as trucks and cars pulled up. Firemen rushed around them to do their work, while someone came to ask questions and Dean quickly intercepted, volunteering himself first to give Sam and Kat their peace for the moment.

Sam did stop crying after some time, and once he stopped, you would have never known he had started. He sat there with Kat, practically laying on her, completely still and silent as his sadness morphed into something darker. Something more like his father.

Dean could only answer so many questions before an officer had to walk over, softly asking Kat if she could answer the same questions. She gently untangled herself from Sam, getting up and walking with the officer, telling him something along the lines of what she figured Dean had. Something about a roadtrip, dropping Sam off, coming back when he called in a panic.

The officer thanked her for her time, and went to talk to Sam, and Kat looked around to see that a crowd had gathered to see what was going on. She looked until she spotted Dean, slowly moving over to him. They just looked at each other for a moment, then she quickly hugged him, holding him tightly. "Dean..."

He slowly wrapped his arms around her. "I know, Kit Kat." Over the years, that nickname had grown from just a way to tease her, and sometimes became a way to comfort her. The familiarity of the name was good at keeping her grounded.

"What are we gonna do? Sam...Jess..."

"We'll figure it out. We just gotta take care of Sammy..."

She nodded, closing her eyes tightly. They just had to take care of Sam; like Dean had for practically his whole life, like Kat had those moments when he needed someone to talk to about anything and everything. They were practically experts. Yet they felt like amateurs now that they had to take care of Sam after something as horrible as this.

When she opened her eyes and pulled away from Dean, she saw that Sam was no longer talking to the officer. In fact, she couldn't see him anywhere. She looked up at Dean and he was looking off in another direction, so she followed his gaze. The Impala's trunk was open.

They made there way to the Impala, around to the trunk, where Sam was standing, loading a shotgun. Anger was clear on his face when he looked at them, though it was directed at something else entirely.

"Sam...I'm..." Kat couldn't finish. There was nothing she could say.

Sam just nodded and tossed the gun into the trunk. "We got work to do." He slammed the trunk shut.

* * *

 **A/N: There we go! There's the pilot, starring Kat. I know she didn't have much to do with the hunt, but she didn't really have a place in this particular one lol. She will definitely be more involved in later hunts, don't worry. And I can't tell you** _ **why**_ **she can sense things, whether it's her or something more ~supernatural~, but I can tell you that she is** _ **not**_ **one of Azazel's special children. That would be too much drama lol. I hope you enjoyed. Please review!**


	4. Wendigo: Part One

**A/N: A few people seem to be enjoying this so far, and that makes me really happy! I have a lot of plans for the future of this fic, so I'm really hoping everyone sticks with me. I'm doing my best to put out these chapters once or twice a week to get things moving. Sorry this one took a little longer, I was figuring out which direction I wanted to take it!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

 **Blackwater Ridge, Colorado**

"Dude, you're cheating."

"No, you just suck."

Two young men sat in a tent, battling each other in some video game, both unaware of the danger that lurked in the forest just outside. Another tent was set up just across from theirs, where a third young man sat alone, recording a video on his phone.

"Hey, Haley!" The man, Tom, grinned into the camera. "Day six. We're still out near Blackwater Ridge." He chuckled, taking no notice of the dark figure running by his tent. "We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow." He stopped the recording and sent the message.

Back in the other tent, one of the men, Brad, shut his game system rather angrily and tossed it aside, turning to unzipping the tent and leave.

The last man was Gary, who turned to give his friend a confused look. "Hey, where ya goin'? My moment of victory."

"Nature calls." Brad gave him a glare, before heading out of the tent and zipping it shut again, moving to a nearby tree. He moved to unzip his pants and stopped when he heard the snap of a twig. He paused for just a second to look around, then went about his business. There was another snap and he looked up; all there was were a few rustling leaves.

He tried to ignore all of the sounds, but he couldn't ignore it anymore when something started growling.

Tom laid in his tent, his attention now on a book, when he heard Brad scream. He sat up when he heard Gary call out their friend's name, furrowing his brow. "Gary, what's going on?"

Gary carefully unzipped the tent, peeking out and looking around. He heard the same growl as Brad and looked up, unable to really even register whatever the hell he was seeing before it yanked him out of the tent as he screamed.

Now Tom was on alert, knowing something _bad_ was happening, so he quickly reached over to turn off the lantern in hopes that whatever was out there wouldn't know he was there. A growling shadow moved around his tent at inhuman speed, while he twisted around and around trying to keep track of it. There was a pause, a sign that _maybe_ it had left.

Suddenly, claws came up to rip open the tent and the _thing_ came in.

The third scream was Tom's.

* * *

They stayed in Stanford for one week. Four days of that week had been out of necessity; they couldn't high-tail it out of there right after Jess died without looking suspicious, and Sam sure as hell wasn't leaving without a proper goodbye. Dean and Kat didn't plan to force him to go or leave without him. They stayed with him, through the more thorough police questioning, through the funeral, through the burial, through the gathering afterwards. Dean wore the suit that he usually used when posing as an FBI agent, Kat wore a black dress that she usually used when cheating drunk men at a game of pool.

Sam didn't cry again. Sometimes Kat saw tears filling his eyes, but the anger that lurked beneath was too strong to let a single one drop. Her comforts became useless for him because of the sadness he wouldn't let himself feel. When she came up and stroked his shoulder towards the end of the funeral, he didn't acknowledge her. When she took his hand as Jessica's coffin was lowered into the ground, his fingers stayed limp in her grasp. She understood and did her best not to feel hurt by it; it wasn't some grudge or the long time apart that made him cold, but the pain that he couldn't let himself feel.

Dean wasn't the touchy-feely type, at least on the outside, instead choosing to stay back and let Sam hurt while Kat tried. He stayed in the back row or under a nearby tree, depending on the venue. The most he did was give Sam's shoulder a squeeze before they left the cemetery, a gesture that was profound coming from him, his own equivalent of hugging Sam for hours upon hours. Afterwards, during the gathering, he guzzled down at least four beers to avoid feeling his baby brother's pain. Sometimes Kat would take his hand, too, when she needed a little support to get through the next five minutes. He squeezed back, just slightly and just once, because he needed it more than he thought she knew.

That was just four days. The other three days of that week were an even purer hell that Dean and Kat hadn't expected. Sam's anger came out full force, sure that what killed Jess was the same thing that got to their mother, and _sure_ that he could track the son of a bitch down and get rid of him. It didn't matter if Dean reminded him that their father had yet to find him after over twenty years or if Kat gently told him to rest for a minute. He ignored them, still scouring the town for other clues and searching every nook and cranny for that thing. At one point, they sneaked into Sam's old apartment to find something — _anything_ — and Dean had muttered to Kat about how they were 'becoming fucking enablers', but they both knew it didn't matter if they enabled him or not. Sam wouldn't listen to reason.

Until he did. They looked everywhere and exhausted every option, and Sam finally admitted defeat after those three days. If only because he was tired. His emotions were drained. Dean even convinced him that they needed to find John if they ever wanted to find the thing that most likely killed Jess. They packed up that night and left for Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.

Now they were still in the car, Dean driving as usual, Sam passed out in the front seat, and Kat reading some horrible, trashy book that Dean had bought at a gas station when she requested something to keep her occupied on the trip.

"How are, uh, Fabian and Hilda?"

Kat looked up, meeting Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror briefly. "It's actually Lorenzo and Blanche, and they're not great. Way too many mentions of Blanche's 'love pillows' or, if you will, her 'pleasure globes'." She smiled slightly when Dean laughed.

"I can't believe girls read that shit—"

"You bought it for me."

"—when it's so lame. No guys act like that—"

"You also watch porn."

"—and is it that hard to call them a nice, big pair of—"

Sam suddenly jumped awake, startling Dean enough to make him stop talking. Kat quickly closed her book, while Dean glanced over at his brother with surprise and concern. "You okay?"

"—yeah, I'm fine," Sam lied obviously, blinking tiredly.

Dean nodded. "Another nightmare?"

He had been having nightmares the past week, but he refused to tell them about it. Dean didn't really ask and Kat wasn't sure if he just no longer felt comfortable telling her things, or if it was so terrifying that he couldn't even tell her.

"You know, you can tell us about it." Maybe she was being a little pushy. All she knew was that she didn't like Sam bottling up his pain; even after their time apart, she was so used to him opening up to her. She hated the thought of him being scared or upset because of whatever dreams he was having.

All he did was clear his throat, so Dean made an offer in hopes of comforting him in his own special Dean-like way, "You wanna drive for a while?" The question didn't exactly have rainbows and kittens appearing, but it _did_ get Sam to laugh a little, which was a definite plus.

"Dean, your whole life, you never once asked me that."

"Really?" Kat set the book aside, leaning forward. "After you left, Dean tried to teach me how to drive."

Sam let out another little laugh, looking at her. "You're kidding me, right? He probably wouldn't let Louis Chevrolet touch this car."

"No, seriously...okay, well, John kinda made him do it, just in case they were both hurt and needed someone to drive them. Or if they needed a getaway driver."

"It was also one lesson. One. And it's never going to happen again." He met Kat's eyes in the mirror, serious rather than teasing like before. " _Ever_."

"What? Did she get a scratch on the door or something?"

"Oh, please. He had me drive at a solid two miles per hour, then he kinda freaked out when I stopped fifty feet from a pole."

"Fifty feet _too close_ to a pole." Even Dean and Kat's relationship, which was at least a little closer than the Impala and that pole had been, wasn't above his love for his father's car. He quickly changed the subject, tone defensive as he looked at Sam, "Just thought you might want to drive. Never mind."

Sam sighed. "Look, man, you're worried about it. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

"Mhm."

They both knew he wasn't _perfectly_ okay. He could have been okay _in the moment_ , but no one is _perfectly_ okay after everything he went through.

Sam sighed again, yanking a map off the dashboard. "Alright, where are we?"

"We are just outside of Grand Junction." Dean sounded less than thrilled. He wasn't a 'Grand Junction' kind of guy.

"—maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon." After _finally_ dragging Sam out of that place, Dean and Kat couldn't help their reactions. He just barely kept from rolling his eyes and she let out a sigh.

"Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first." Sam finished easily. Dean had probably said it a hundred times during their last few days in Stanford before he finally listened, so it wasn't hard to remember it word for word.

"Dad disappearing, and this thing showing up again after twenty years? It's no coincidence. Dad'll have answers. He'll know what to do."

"It's weird, man..." Sam looked over the map, brow furrowed. "These coordinates he left us, this...Blackwater Ridge."

"What about it?"

"There's nothing there. It's just...woods." He put the map in his lap. "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

"He could be hiding out in the woods," Kat said, leaning forward to rest on the back of the front seat. "It's inconspicuous enough, and whatever he's running from probably wouldn't look there."

Sam and Dean looked at each other in thought, before the latter shook his head. "Nah, that'd be too easy."

"Okay, maybe he carved coordinates into a single, specific tree and we have to find it."

"Jesus Christ, Kat," Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes as Sam let out a laugh. "At least you made Sammy happy."

"Hey, pull in here." Sam nodded towards a ranger station. "Maybe we can find something Dad left or...I don't know. Maybe there's something _here_ that's some sort of hint. Something he knows we'd know."

Dean just shrugged and nodded, pulling up to the station. He didn't exactly have any better ideas on what the hell to do now that they were there; in Jericho, they had the hunt as a lead, but all they had was the location in Colorado. The boys got out at the same time, while Kat got out a second later, looking around.

"Have I ever mentioned that I don't really like forests? There's something so...Jason Voorhees about them."

"Come on, all we've been through, and you think we couldn't take down Jason?" Dean lead their little group into the station, which seemed to be empty at the moment.

"We would kill him and he would just keep getting back up. It's his thing." Kat moved to join Sam at a 3D map of the forest that was in the center of the room. "This is unexpectedly cool for a place like this."

"Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote..." Sam tilted his head as he looked at the map, moving to lean on it. "It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

"Check out the size of this fucking bear." Dean was standing across the room, his hands in his jacket pockets, looking at a picture. Sam gave him a look, but Kat wasn't one to miss out on large bears. Unless they were actually there. So she moved over to look at the picture with him, actually a little impressed by a bear in the photo which was at least three times the size of the man posing with it.

"Too bad he killed it."

"Better than having it rip his guts out. Or ours."

"I guess." She had to agree with him. With the size of that bear, it could easily tear apart the whole station to get to them if it were still around.

Sam moved over to them with a sigh, his arms crossed. "And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure." He was pretty good at being calm and comforting, but everyone had their slip ups now and then.

"I like bears, but really from more of a respectable distance—"

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" _That_ was a new voice, and they quickly spun around to see a ranger standing there with a cup of coffee.

Dean opened and closed his mouth a couple times while trying to figure out a lie, but Sam quickly intervened, "Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper."

"Yeah." Kat nodded, putting on a bright smile. She was no stranger to lying, having probably done it a thousand times while hunting. "We're writing a paper about...mankind's effect on our national forests."

"Recycle, man." Apparently that was all Dean could muster, raising his fist and chuckling.

"Bull." The ranger didn't even believe them for a second. Sam swallowed and looked at Kat, whose smile fell, and Dean, who stared at the ranger nervously. "You're friends with that Hayley girl, right?"

There was a pause before Dean took the opportunity to find out what the hell the ranger was talking about with a simple, "Yes." He moved over to the desk as the ranger stepped behind it, Sam and Kat following. "Yes, we are. Ranger—" He glanced at the man's nametag quickly. "—Wilkinson."

Ranger Wilkinson smirked, shaking his head. "Well, I'll tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons, now is it?" That could definitely be of interest. A missing person was sometimes just a missing person, but more often than not, it went deeper than that. Dean shook his head, almost humoring the man. "Tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine." The ranger moved out from behind the desk.

"We will. Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

" _That_ is putting it mildly."

"Actually, you know what would help," Dean moved closer to the ranger, "is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

Sam and Kat looked at each other, both a little confused. They stood back and watched as the ranger went about getting a copy of the permit for Dean. Once it was in his hands, he didn't even say another word before walking out of the station, leaving the other two to catch up with him.

He looked at the paper, chuckling. "Yeah."

"Are you cruisin' for a hookup or something?" Sam asked, shaking his head a bit disapprovingly.

"What do you mean?"

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for?" He was clearly pissed and impatient, more than likely because of the vengeance he felt. The need to find John, and find that demon, and get rid of it for good. "Let's just go find Dad." He moved around to his side of the car, his tone growing even more exasperated. "I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"He's right, Dean." Kat walked to the back door of the Impala as Dean went to the driver's side, stopping with her hand on the door handle to look up at him. "First of all, this girl could be, like, twelve for all we know. So...gross. Second of all, what's the point? Her brother could not even be missing, and if he is, it might not be something of our...expertise."

"I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we _actually_ walk into it?" He shrugged, looking back and forth between them both like they were insane. "If we're gonna be wandering around the forest looking for Dad..." Silence fell over the group as they let his fair point settle. He took the moment to look at Sam in confusion.

"—what?"

"Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later anyway?" He leaned on the roof of the car.

Sam stared at him, calm and serious. "Since now." He opened the car door to get in.

"Oh, really?" Dean grinned and nodded in approval as he climbed into the car.

Kat cast Sam a sympathetic look, one that still stayed in her gaze even after she was in the backseat of the car and Dean had started the engine. The older Winchester, who was definitely a shoot-first-ask-questions-later person, was too proud of Sam for _really_ getting into their hunting life to realize just why his brother was like that. All he wanted was to get revenge for what that demon did to Jess; his pain and his misery made him want to shoot first and ask questions later.

She reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He had been staring out the window, but quickly turned to look at her hand when he felt it, then looked up at her. "What?"

"—a bug. Sorry." She pulled her hand away. Despite spending the week together and all the little comforts she tried to give him, things were a little...awkward. Perhaps not awkward so much as weird. Sure, they could all laugh together sometimes, and have normal moments, and be around each other without total weirdness, but things were pretty strained. They still weren't c _lose_ , their newfound friendship not even half of what it was. Sam was too closed off and focused on getting things done, while Kat had felt the distance during their time apart and had that empty part Sam left filled with Dean. She still had room for Sam, but neither of them were quite ready yet. The two brothers were still strained, too, falling into some old routines and yet still having the wedge of time and abandonment between them.

Kat — and Dean — still cared about Sam very much, though, and would have gladly opened up about how she knew he was hurting because of Jess. But she was beginning to realize there wasn't really a point. He would brush it off, Dean would get awkward, and it would be a whole useless mess. It wasn't worth it. Needed, yes. Worth it, no. Their relationship wouldn't be repaired over the comfort she tried to give, at least not at this point.

It wasn't too long before Dean pulled up to the address that was on the permit. Kat got out of the car, looking up at the house. "What's the lie this time?"

Dean shrugged as he stepped out. "We're writing a paper on missing men in national forests?"

"Or...the ranger sent us to get information about her brother?"

"I mean...I guess that works, too." He gave her a grin, walking with her up to the front door of the house. Sam lagged behind a little, but made it behind them by the time Dean knocked on the wooden frame of the outer screen door. A girl soon opened the wooden door behind it, eyeing them a bit suspiciously. "You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Kat, and that's Sam," He gestured to them, Sam nodding and Kat smiling. "We're, uh, rangers with the park service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy."

Haley looked them over, seeming indecisive for a moment. "—lemme see some ID."

"Oh." Dean felt around, before pulling out an ID that pretty clearly wasn't his, holding it up to the screen for her to see. "Here ya go."

Haley looked at the ID, then at Dean, who gave her a smile. She didn't seem entirely convinced and pushed open the screen door a bit begrudgingly. "Come on in."

"Thanks." They started to move in.

"That yours?" Haley caught a glimpse of the Impala.

Sam glanced back and Dean smiled proudly. "Yeah."

"Nice car." She smirked, turning and walking into the house.

Dean started to follow, pausing for just a moment to turn and look at Sam, mouthing 'oh, man' to make it obvious how hot _she_ was and how hot it was that she liked his beloved c _ar_.

Sam rolled his eyes, looking at Kat, who nodded in solidarity with him. "I know." She stepped into the house, looking around a bit, before her eyes landed on a what looked to be a teen boy sitting at a dining table. "Hey," she gave him a soft smile as she walked over to stand next to Dean.

"Hey." He wasn't very talkative, which wasn't odd considering Haley had disappeared into the kitchen and he was mostly alone with three strangers.

"So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam went to the other side of the table, slipping into his role easily as he recalled the bit of information the ranger gave them.

Haley stepped out of the kitchen, placing some bowls of food on the table. "He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Well, maybe he can't get cell reception." It was like a game of Guess Who. They would ask questions, weigh the options, remember some details and cancel out others, until they figured out the situation.

"He's got a satellite phone, too." Haley walked back into the kitchen.

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"

The boy at the table just about dropped his utensil, practically glaring at Dean. "He wouldn't do that."

Dean stared right back until the kid turned away.

"Our parents are gone." Haley put more dishes of food on the table. "It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other." She looked at the boy, letting them know that he was the other brother.

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?"

"Yeah." Haley moved to a computer at the other end of the table, letting Sam sit in front of it as she pulled up pictures. Dean and Kat walked over to look. "That's Tommy."

Kat looked closely at the pictures of the young man as Haley clicked through them. "Is it possible that he lost is stuff?"

"Maybe, but he would've come right back home. He wouldn't just leave us hanging." Haley switched to a video of Tommy, letting it play.

 _"Hey, Haley! Day six. We're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."_

"Whoa." Kat nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a shadow flit by the tent behind Tommy in the video.

Haley quickly looked at her. "What?"

"—uh..." She knew better than to go spilling to the girl. She could tell by the look Sam was giving her that he had seen it, too. "Nothing. You just have a real sweet brother. My brother—" She stopped short. That pain may have dulled, but it was there. Dean had looked at her in surprise and even Sam's knowing look turned to curiosity; after all that time, all of the things she had said to Sam and Dean, she never really talked about her family life in detail before everything went down. "Never mind. Don't worry about it."

Dean was a godsend — he might not have believed that, but Kat thought so for a while now — and changed the subject. "Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there." Haley walked back across the table, catching the three looks of surprise she got. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

Dean looked at her, nodding. "I think I know how you feel." He and Haley shared a moment of understand through their eyes alone, then he looked away.

"Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam looked at her.

"Sure."

While Haley went to send the files to Sam, Dean grabbed Kat by the arm and pulled her away from the table. "You okay?" She was really the only one he was 'touchy-feely' with, and even then, he wasn't a total sap. He didn't sob or spill his guts out to her, it was just...that she was there. She understood him. They were both there when all they had left were each other. He didn't take shit like that lightly and he was nothing if not loyal, so he had her back as much as she had his.

"Yeah?" She looked at him in confusion for a moment. Then she realized what he meant. "Oh. Oh, yeah." Unlike Sam, she really was okay. Maybe a little awkward, maybe feeling a little ache way deep down, but at least ninety-eight percent okay. "Just...remembering things I haven't thought about in a long time." She gave him a little smile, then looked over to see how the picture-forwarding process was going, a little startled to find Sam staring at them oddly. Right. He thought the way they acted with each other now was weird.

"What? You've never seen people talk before?"

She was equally as startled by the gruff tone Dean took with his brother. She looked back at him only to find his gaze was on Haley's brother, who had apparently been staring at them just like Sam. "Dean. Come on." He could get a little defensive when people caught him being his own version of touchy-feely.

"Thanks, Haley." Sam stood up, looking at Dean and Kat. "You guys ready?"

* * *

The rest of the day was spent with Sam researching and Dean dragging Kat to some restaurant for lunch — okay, dragged wasn't the _right_ word. She had wanted to go research with Sam, enjoying the thrill of figuring things out after all these years, but lunch was good, too. Being alone with Sam probably would have been weird anyway. In the past, they had been able to chat easily. Now? They would probably sit in an awkward silence. Back in the motel room in Jericho, they didn't say much to each other after Sam asked about her and Dean until they were under the stress of possibly being arrested, and things had just became more off after the past week. There just really wasn't much to talk about and catching up didn't seem ideal given...recent events.

They met back up at some little bar that night, where Sam was presenting them with all he had found. "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic." He opened up his bag, taking out John's journal and tossing it onto the table. "Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found." He opened the journal.

"Any before that?" Dean leaned back in his seat.

"Yeah," Sam took out a pile of newspaper articles. "In 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." As he spoke, Dean was going through the articles. "And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936." He took his laptop out of his bag and opened it up to Tommy's video.

"Oh, God." Kat was sitting on Dean's other side and she leaned forward. "Don't tell me this is some routine-obsessed woman in white. Constance was enough."

"No, I don't think so. It doesn't add up to that...it's every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out."

Dean had been reading the articles and mumbling to himself, but turned his attention to the laptop as Sam fast forwarded to the video, then clicked through three frames, catching a shadow running behind the tent.

"I _knew_ you saw it, too." Kat and Sam shared a little smile. Brief normalcy. A glimpse into the past.

"Do it again?"

Sam immediately did as Dean asked. "That's three frames. That's a _fraction_ of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move." He jumped when Dean hit him, looking up at him.

"I told you something weird was going on."

"Yeah." He shut the laptop. "I got one more thing." He pulled out another article, and Kat leaned against Dean to read it. "In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive." Somehow he looked smug about this, which was a little confusing.

"Is there a name?"

* * *

Another day, another door to knock on. Well, night, actually. And a chilly night at that, which Kat was all too aware of as she shivered between Sam and Dean. They went to the definitely-not-heated apartment of the little boy that had barely escaped that 'grizzly' all those years ago, knowing that if anyone was going to lead them to the creature — to John — this man named 'Shaw' would probably be it.

Shaw, obviously an older man than he was in 1959, opened the door with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, looking like he was wondering why the hell two young men and a young woman were at his door. Dean quickly told the same lie he told Haley, that they were just rangers, but this time he asked about the attack.

The man walked away and left the door open, so they took that as their cue to follow him inside. "Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking _me_ about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—"

"Grizzly?" Sam's interruption made him pause. "That's what attacked him?"

He hesitated, took a puff of his cigarette, and nodded as he turned to face them. They could spot the lie easily, and Dean moved towards him. "The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks, too?" No answer. "What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?" Still no answer. "If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it."

Shaw took the cigarette out of his mouth. "I seriously doubt that. Anyway, I don't see what difference it would make." He slowly sat down and grabbed a glass, his eyes looking like that scared little boy must have in 1959. "You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did."

"Sir," Kat said softly, stepping closer. "If...anyone is going to believe you, it's going to be us. I can promise you that."

"That's right." Sam's tone was just as sympathetic as he went to sit down on the bed across from the older man's seat. "Mr. Shaw. What did you see?"

Kat sat by him without a care for weirdness, only wanting to get Shaw talking, not just for the sake of the hunt, but also to help him. She knew what was out there and so did he, and he deserved to have someone believe him. "You can tell us. It's okay."

He considered it for a moment, sighing. "Nothing." His bottom lip started to tremble. "It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though...a roar. Like...no man or animal I ever heard."

Sam glanced back at Dean, who stood there stoically, then back at Shaw. "It came at night?" His question received a nod. "Got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our _cabin_. I was sleepin' in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or _break_ the door; it unlocked it. You know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up until my parents screamed."

"It killed them?"

"Dragged them off into the night. Why it left me alive..." Shaw shook his head. "Been askin' myself that ever since." There was another pause. "Did leave me this, though." He reached up, pulling his collar aside to reveal a few scars going down his collarbone.

Kat instinctively grabbed onto Sam's arm, gripping the sleeve of his jacket tightly out of shock and a little fear. The scars were thick and raised, and it didn't take a genius to know they were claw marks. Claw marks that, according to all the signs, couldn't have been from a bear or any other animal. Whatever this thing was, it was _bad_.

"There's something evil in those woods." Shaw put the collar of his shirt back into place. "It was some sort of a demon."

Things went silent for a moment. Soon enough, Dean thanked him for his time and Shaw thanked them for believing him, a little teary eyed. Kat pulled away from Sam when she realized she was holding his sleeve, instead using her hand to shake Mr. Shaw's. A hug would have been too much, she thought, even if she felt terrible for what he went through.

They went out to the hallway of the building to leave, Dean in the lead as he said, "Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls."

"So it's probably something else. Something corporeal."

"Corporeal?" He looked at Sam. "Excuse me, professor."

"—shut up. So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves...could be a skinwalker. Maybe a black dog? Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature." He and Sam stopped walking. "And it's _corporeal_." He got an eye roll for that one. "Which means we can kill it." He started walking to the exit again.

"If it doesn't kill us first." Kat's statement had both men looking back at her as they headed to the door.

"You gettin' scared on me, Kat? After all your training? All the hunts we've been on? You handled that shit in New Orleans likes a badass." Dean shoved the door open, leaving Sam to catch it. He glared at his brother and let Kat through before following. "Back in California, I thought you were going to jump in that car and try to scratch Constance's non- _corporeal_ eyes out to save Sammy."

"I don't know, Dean." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "This is new. This is _different_. You saw the marks it left on him."

They were almost to where the Impala was parked when Dean turned around and put his hands on her shoulders. "Repeat after me. If we can take down Jason, we can take down anything."

"—we've never fought Jason. This is _worse_ than Jason."

"It's just a saying! You know we've got this, right? The three of us can take down pretty much anything, no problem. Okay? Okay." He caught sight of Sam's smirk. "Shut up." He went to the trunk of the car.

Kat wasn't too scared, really. She wasn't worried about facing it so much as she was about it being _too_ fast and _too_ strong and taking out Sam or Dean. Or both. She wasn't going to run away screaming, but she felt at least a little nervous for the boys and herself.

"It'll be fine, Kat." Sam's voice surprised her out of her thoughts. "We'll deal with this just like anything else." What a turn of events. Sam was comforting her instead of the other way around, which hadn't happened in years, of course. Not since at least a few weeks before he left.

"Thanks, Sam." They went to the trunk, where Dean had propped open the floor of the trunk and was throwing weapons into a bag.

"While we may be able to handle this, we _cannot_ let that Haley girl go out there." Sam leaned into the trunk.

That had any fear Kat felt shoved aside for the moment. As bad as things could end up, she, Dean, and Sam knew how to take care of themselves; Haley was just a worried girl looking for her brother. "I'm gonna have to agree with Sam on this one."

"Oh, yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big, scary monster?"

"Yeah." Sam looked at Dean with complete seriousness.

"I mean, what's wrong with that? We could tell her it's a grizzly and that it's not safe for her to go out."

"Her brother's missing. She's not just gonna sit this out." Just like Dean wouldn't sit it out if Sam were missing. "Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." He grabbed the bag out of the trunk.

"So finding Dad's not enough?" Sam slammed the weapons box and the trunk shut to make his anger clear. "Now we gotta babysit, too?" He got two stares, both Dean and Kat a little surprised by just how angry he was over this and how suddenly his mood changed. "What?" He wasn't even curious or confused. His question was almost a challenge, begging Dean to say _something_.

"—nothin'." Dean threw the bag at Sam, who caught it and moved as if to do something back to him, but Dean was already walking to the driver's side of the car. Sam even started to follow, jaw clenched, but stopped short.

"Sam, what..." Kat couldn't very well ask what was going on with him. It was grief and vengeance, just like it had been since those last three days in Stanford. He wanted things done quick and efficiently, he wanted them done right away, and _apparently_ everything was setting him off. "Are you..."

"Kat, can you just...not try this right now?" He didn't try to hold back the anger in his voice, pausing as he looked at her. "—I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I just...I...forget it." He sighed, storming to the car door. He wasn't ready to open up yet.

Kat briefly worried that he never would be. Maybe it was too much. What if this was the _new_ Sam? Angry, impatient, ask questions later Sam? What if nothing could be repaired — not Sam, not his relationship with Dean, not _their_ relationship? It was a horrible thought. He had always been so gentle, and sweet, and wanted more than the life of a hunter. That changing scared her more than some forest monster ever could.

* * *

As per usual, they had picked out a decent — but cheap — motel to crash in for the night, getting two rooms next to each other. Kat was getting settled in for the night, laying on one of the beds and flipping through the few TV channels there were, snacking every now and then on some Twizzlers she got from a nearby vending machine. She had stopped on some old black and white movie when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." It could have very well been some sort of horrible creature, but she figured they wouldn't be so polite.

Fortunately, it was Dean who opened the door and stepped inside, wearing his usual pajamas that consisted of his underwear and a T-shirt. "Sam is fucking crazy." He closed the door none too gently, though he didn't slam it like he very well could have.

She looked up at him, smiling softly. "I know."

"I couldn't look at his bitchface anymore." He bypassed the double bed closest to the door, instead moving to the bed Kat was on and plopping down next to her. "I swear, all I had to do was _breathe_ and he was looking at me like I kicked a puppy."

"You were pretty proud of him, being all 'shoot first, ask questions later'."

"Yeah, that was before he turned into a little bitch. Gimme that." He grabbed a Twizzler away from Kat, but didn't bite into it yet. "I mean, did you see how he was about having Haley come along with us? It's not ideal, but she's not gonna stay out of this. I wouldn't."

"I know you wouldn't." Obviously knowing Dean was upset, Kat said nothing about the stolen candy and just took another piece out. She wasn't going to interrupt this. Times like this were the only times he _almost_ opened up; it was more like complaining, but if it helped him, she was going to be right there to listen. "You were right, before. All we can do is protect her."

"Damn straight. With how Sammy is, I wouldn't be surprised if he just throws her to the wolves. Or whatever the hell is out there." He took a bite out of the candy in his hand, frustration even showing in the way he chewed.

"He's grieving, Dean."

He swallowed, looking at her. "Can't you just bitch with me?"

"We share a wall with Sam right now. If he hears us, I'd rather _not_ be thrown to the wolves, or _whatever the hell is out there_." She smirked at him.

"Yeah, right." Dean scoffed. "He could try." They fell silent for a moment, the only sound in the room some dialogue coming from the television. "What is this crap?"

"I don't know. Some old movie with Ingrid Bergman."

Their conversation ended there, as Dean stopped complaining about the movie — probably because Ingrid was a total babe — and laid back in the bed beside Kat, both of them eating candy in a far more comfortable silence than there would be if Sam were with them.

Dean was supposed to leave after an hour or so, once his brother was asleep and there wouldn't be a whole bunch of tension. Instead, both he and Kat fell asleep side by side before the credits for the movie even rolled.

* * *

 _ **August 8th, 2002**_

 _ **Norfolk, Nebraska**_

 _Another night. A different bed. The same two people in it._

 _Kat laid on top of the old, faded burgundy quilt that the owners of the little bed and breakfast had provided, halfway propped up against pillows and the headboard. Dean hadn't said a word since they came inside, just laid there beside her. He stared at the ceiling for a good few minutes before he suddenly rolled over and rested his head on her chest. She was shocked, to say the least, and didn't_ dare _move a muscle in fear of spooking him._

 _He didn't cry and he still didn't speak for a long while. He just stayed there, finding comfort in her warmth and presence._

 _Eventually, he broke the silence. "You want that apple pie life?" His voice was full of emotion despite his lack of tears._

 _"_ _—_ _what?" She looked down at him._

 _"You know...pastel two-story, picket fence, businessman husband, two and a half kids, a dog and a cat..."_

 _"Oh." She thought about it for a moment, sighing. "I don't know..."_

 _"Just tell me."_

 _Any other time, she may have sassed him back for that demand, but not this time. His tone was more than just demanding; it was full of need. Like he needed to hear her talk to distract him or maybe he was looking for assurance that she wouldn't run out on them, too._

 _"My life wasn't even that stereotypically 'apple pie' when I was growing up, Dean." That seemed like a good place to start. "I don't know. I don't want a pastel house, I'm more of an apartment girl myself. No picket fence. I don't really care_ what _my husband does as long as he's not some sexist freak. I...I don't really know if I want to get married." Her voice took on a vulnerability before she could hold it back. "Knowing what I know now..." As she spoke, one of her hands had moved to Dean's head, her nails gently stroking through his hair. "It's the same way for kids, really. I mean...I guess if I were safe from the monsters and someone I liked got me pregnant, I wouldn't be mad. It's just not something I'm seeking out, you know? And again, the same goes for pets...knowing what we know...it'd suck to get so attached to something when there's supernatural monsters out there." Too bad she was already attached to the Winchesters. "What about you?"_

 _There was silence and she wondered if he fell asleep, then he answered smoothly, "I'm cool with a house, but none of that pastel shit. Normal fence. I'd probably have a girlfriend instead of a wife. I think I'd make a shit father, but if there was a kid, I'd do my damnedest to be there for them. I haven't decided about pets yet." It was almost like he had rehearsed it a hundred times. Or dreamed of it a hundred times._

 _They went quiet again before Dean said softly, "I'm never going to have it." He said nothing more than that. He didn't express a longing, or a need, or a desire. Just stated that he wouldn't have that life, with what he meant laying just beneath the surface._

 _"Me neither." Her reponse was partly to reassure him and partly the truth. She may have had a normal life before, but it was over. With what she knew...with her life now...she wasn't going to be able to go back to the way things were. Even if she had gone with Sam, it just wouldn't have been...right._

 _"I'll tell you what." He didn't lift his head, just looked up at her as best as he could. "If we're in our forties and out of the business, you and me make some compromises and make a life of our own."_

 _She smiled softly. "If we're in our forties and out of the business," she agreed, both of them knowing that it would never happen._

 _The rest of the night was spent with light conversation and moments of silence. Dean didn't mention Sam once and Kat didn't either. She didn't want to upset him, and honestly, his abscence was hurting her, too. Like she felt before, she was a little happy. And a little sad. She didn't want to talk about him, she wanted to lay with Dean because his presence was comforting her like hers was comforting him. They didn't sleep a wink, but that was okay._

 _That night sealed their relationship forever; comfort. Calm. Maybe a little bit of need._

* * *

They drove into the forest early the next morning for several reasons. They wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible, Dean wanted to get there before or around the same time as Haley so she didn't go off on her own, and Sam wanted to get it over with.

He was still grumpy, brooding silently and staring out the window the entire drive. He hadn't said a word to Dean _or_ Kat all morning and they both understood now, but they — especially Dean — were getting a little tired of it. Kat was getting tired of it more than she would have liked to admit; it was hard to be understanding when he was being cruel to them. He had bursts of anger those last three days in Stanford, of course, and always cooled off after a little while. She thought he would have calmed down by morning, regretted what he said the night before, and moved back to the closed off sadness. He didn't, obviously.

Haley, her brother, and another man were already there when they pulled up. Dean stopped the car and the three hunters got out, Sam grabbing their bag of weapons out of the back of the car.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean walked over to Haley.

"Wait, you want to come with us?"

The man glared at them. "Who are these guys?"

"Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue." Haley glanced back at him, before smirking at Dean, Sam, and Kat.

Sam, in all his grumpiness, stalked on ahead of them.

"You're rangers?"

"That's right."

"And you're hiking out in..." Haley looked Dean over. "Biker boots and jeans?"

"Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts." Dean moved past her and Kat followed.

"What, you think this is funny?" The man's words made him turn to look at him with an expression that clearly showed he didn't care. "It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt."

"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be. We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all." Dean's words seemed to have an effect on all three. He went ahead, moving past Sam.

Kat just gave them a smile, before hurrying to catch up with Sam and Dean. All six of them eventually grouped together, the man taking the lead much to Dean's dismay. They made a little chit chat, introducing themselves, learning that Haley's brother's name was Ben and that the man with them was a hunter named Roy. Even Sam talked a bit, so the time in nature seemed to be doing him some good. Kat stayed in the back of the group to keep him company, even though he was being kind of a jerk.

"So, Roy, you said you did a little hunting." Dean was kind of a jerk, too.

"Yeah." Roy carefully moved over the underbrush. "More than a little."

"Uh huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck. Sometimes bear."

Dean gave a smug smile, walking ahead of him. "Tell me, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?"

Roy suddenly grabbed Dean roughly by the back of the jacket and yanked him back, making Kat tense up, ready to attack him if need be. "Hey. He says that kind of stuff to everybody, okay?"

"Whatcha doin', Roy?"

Instead of hurting him, Roy picked up a large stick and poked at the ground right where Dean had been about to step, setting off a bear trap. He returned Dean's smug smile from before. "You should watch where you're steppin'. _Ranger_." He walked on ahead.

"That's a bear trap." Dean tried to laugh it off, to look less foolish, before following Roy.

Sam looked less than impressed, Kat noticed, and he just stared at the trap as they walked by it. Beautiful nature could only help so much. To be honest, he was creeping her out a little with his stoicism. He was like those evil kids in horror movies that just stared as they put their families in harm's way on purpose. God, she hoped Sam could heal enough for his old self to come back; for his sake, for her sake, for Dean's sake.

"You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a _duffel_ bag. You're not rangers." Haley caught up with Dean, grabbing his arm to stop him. "So who the hell are you?"

Sam and Kat stopped in case he needed help. He nodded for them to go on, so they did, leaving him to defend himself against the sharp and tough woman that was Haley. As they walked, Kat started to notice that Sam kept _looking_ at her. Not the creepy stare he had, but something more curious and questioning. They were gaining some space from Haley and Dean, and Roy and Ben were farther ahead, so she finally just asked, "What?"

"Nothing," he said immediately. He looked ahead for a moment, jaw clenching, seeming to be at war with himself. A beat passed and then, "Are you and Dean sleeping together?"

She laughed. It wasn't a funny question. At all. That just seemed to be how her shock came out when faced with such an inquiry. She hadn't been expecting it, really. "Um...no."

"Have you and Dean _ever_ slept together?"

She looked at him, furrowing her brow, and drawled, " _No_. Where is this coming from?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe it has something to do with him going to your room last night and not coming back until morning?"

"—he came to my room because you wouldn't stop glaring at him." That had Sam looking away almost ashamedly. "We were watching a movie. We fell asleep, okay? He was gone by the time I got up. There's nothing like...that between Dean and me. Not really. We're just closer than we used to be."

"It's just weird. Dean doesn't get _close_ to anybody."

She could have mentioned once again that he left. That his abscence was painful for the three he walked out on, none more than Dean, and that _she_ was there to help him through it as best as she could. That he helped her, too. But Sam was in enough pain as it was and she didn't want to make it worse. She gave a lame, "Yeah, well. Are you going to stop being a total grump now? That's kinda Dean's job."

That got a little smile out of him. Baby steps. "Yeah. Sorry I've been a jerk...it's just..."

"I know. It's okay." She wanted to grab his hand or touch his shoulder. She didn't. She couldn't have, anyway, as Dean suddenly shoved between them.

"Hey. Provisions?" He held up a bag of peanut M&M's.

* * *

It wasn't too long before they made it to Blackwater Ridge. Sam asked Roy for the coordinates and they were the exact ones John had left, so they knew it was right. Roy decided to go off to search on his own, despite Sam's hint that he _really_ shouldn't, leaving Dean, Sam, and Kat to lead the group. They had been searching around bushes, and trees, and rocks for at least a few minutes when Roy called out.

"Haley! Over here!"

The group ran in the direction of his voice, Haley in the lead, and they all skidded to a stop when they saw what he'd found. It was a campsite. Or what used to be one. There were two tents, torn apart with streaks and splashes of blood, and a bunch of camping supplies was strewn around. "Oh my God." Haley swallowed.

"Looks like a grizzly." Roy was right. It _looked_ like something a grizzly bear could have done.

Dean wandered through the site and farther to investigate, while Haley looked around, taking off her backpack. "Tommy?" She dropped it to the ground. "Tommy! Tommy!" She moved further, ignoring the way Sam was shushing her until he caught up to her. "Why?"

"Something might still be out there."

"Sam! Kat!" Dean's voice was a little far off. Sam looked at Kat, nodding, and they both went in the direction Dean did. He was crouching on the ground when they got there.

"What's going on?" Kat crouched next to him on one side while Sam did the same on the other.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish." It was true, there wasn't a sign of even an animal having ever passed through the dirt and sticks. "It's weird." He stood up and Sam and Kat did the same. "I'll tell you what. It's no skinwalker or black dog." He was the first to start back to the campsite and Kat followed, with Sam staying behind for a moment longer.

When they got back, Haley was holding a broken and bloodied phone, tears falling from her eyes. Dean was the sympathetic one now, moving to her. "Hey. He could still be alive."

"Help!" The scream was sudden and somewhere deep the forest, laced with obvious fear and desperation. Roy, Sam, Dean, and Kat were the first ones after the sound, followed quickly by Haley and Ben. "Help! Help! Somebody!"

They made it to a little clearing, where the screaming had been coming from, but there was nothing. No person, no monster, not even a sign of a struggle and a quick escape.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked.

Kat looked around carefully, for _anything_. She looked at Dean, who just seemed confused, the gun he carried out but obviously unused. She then looked at Sam and could practically see the wheels turning in his head. That could mean something either good or bad.

"Everybody back to camp." No one argued with Sam, all of them following his lead back to where they came from. It was mostly the same as when they left, except now all of their stuff was missing.

"Our packs!"

Roy walked over to where his supplies had been. "So much for my GPS and my satellite phone."

"What the hell is going on?" Haley looked around.

"It's smart." Sam sighed. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You mean someone," Poor Roy didn't understand, which was to be expected. "some nutjob out there just stole all our gear."

Sam grabbed Kat by the arm, taking her by surprise as she had been looking around like the others. He pulled her over to Dean. "I need to speak with you. In private." He headed off away from the group, taking Kat with him, and Dean soon followed. "Good. Let me see Dad's journal." He let go of Kat, holding his hand out for the journal. His brother looked a bit bemused, but handed it over anyway, both he and Kat watching as Sam opened it up to a page about wendigos. "Alright. Check that out."

"Oh, come on." Dean looked at the page, holding it out a bit so Kat could see when she moved closer to him. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or—or northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west."

"Think about it, Dean. The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great. Well, then this is useless." Dean gestured with his gun.

Kat looked at Sam. "I knew that look on your face couldn't have been good." She had read about wendigos long ago and knew they were difficult. "Look, guys, I love your dad—" Kind of. Sort of. In a _way_. Not in a father-daughter way or in a friend way, and _definitely_ not in a lover way, but...in some way. "—but why is he doing this? Sending us places, leaving _us_ the hunts? It's like a treasure hunt, but the clues come with horrifying monsters."

"I'm gonna be asking him the same thing. As soon as we find him..." For some reason, Dean sounded a little doubtful.

Sam shook his head, pushing the journal into Dean's chest until he took it, before walking past him. He paused and turned back for just a second to say, "We gotta get these people to safety." Then he continued back to the campsite.

Dean rolled his eyes, then turned to Kat. "Jason's sounding pretty good right now, huh?"

"Yeah. Yes. Let's go to Crystal Lake." She only made it one step in the opposite direction of the camp before she looked back at Dean. He just looked at her. He didn't have to say anything. She already knew. There were people to save, and people to help, and this was their job. Besides, she had faced worse things—okay, maybe she hadn't faced _worse_ things, but she had faced things just as bad or almost just as bad. She wasn't going to wimp out on this and desert anyone who needed their help.

"That's my girl." He wrapped an arm around her neck as she walked back to him, letting go after a moment and leading her back to the others. "Tell you what, after we find my dad, we can totally go to Crystal Lake."

"You know just what to say, Dean Winchester."

When they made it back to the camp, Sam was addressing the rest of the group. "Alright, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated..."

"—what?" Haley looked at him, confused.

"Kid, don't worry," Roy's tone was a mix of reassurance and smugness. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle out."

"It's not _me_ I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now."

"One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

Now Dean stepped in. "Relax."

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, alright?" Sam turned to face Roy fully. "We're trying to protect you."

" _You_ protect _me_?" Roy stepped up to him, getting right into his face. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight."

Kat felt Dean stiffen and she tensed. Their mother was still a touchy subject for the two boys, and Kat couldn't help the protectiveness that filled her. "Hey, he's just trying to help you. All we want to do is protect you, you might need it."

"Oh?" Roy laughed. He _laughed_. "Look, you're adorable, but I don't need some _little girl_ trying to protect me."

Kat could be fiery, that was known, but there were a few things that brought it out of her more than anything else. One, a good hunt. Two, Dean, Sam, or even John being hurt or in harm's way. Three, any sort of competitive game with Dean. And four, the implication that she couldn't be with the best because she was female. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haley give Roy a look.

"Excuse me? Do you know what I can d—" She hardly made it a step forward before Dean grabbed her shirt and pulled her back, giving her a stare that definitely said _not the time_.

"Yeah?" Sam was visibly getting pissed, his fists clenching at his sides. "It's a damn near _perfect_ hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here."

Roy just laughed again, moving even closer. "You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—"

Dean stepped between them, shoving Sam back much to his dismay as Roy just kept on laughing like the asshole he was. "Chill out."

"Roy!" Haley walked over, pulling Roy away. "Stop! Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look, Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him."

There was a pause. Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"It's gettin' late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves." Dean moved past Haley, who turned to watch him.

"How?"

"Don't worry, we have our ways." He took out the journal, flipping through it.

Kat moved to stand by Sam, arms crossed, mostly watching Dean and sometimes glancing at Roy. "I could have taken him." She looked up at Sam. He didn't look at her, but he did nod.

"I would have let you."

* * *

 **A/N: There we go. I gotta say, I felt super bad about this and felt it didn't make sense in the middle of the night and was going to redo it, but after re-reading it, I think it's ok. I hope you all think so as well! Hopefully there aren't too many mistakes. I always finish chapters right before I go to bed lol. And I hope you liked the flashback to ~that night~ with Dean and Kat. I wanted to give everyone a little insight on their relationship. Review, please!**


	5. Wendigo: Part Two

**A/N: Here you all go! The love this story is getting is amazing, thank you so much :) I'm really glad you're all liking it. I was pretty nervous putting it out there, but who wouldn't be? I feel so honored by the response it has received!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

With only the strewn around supplies Tommy and his friends left behind — quite unwillingly, that is — the group did their best to set up camp for the night. If they went after the wendigos once the sun set, there was a good chance none of them would make it; not experienced hunters like Dean, Sam, and Kat, not an experienced animal hunter like Roy, and definitely not worried siblings like Haley and Ben. They collected the supplies and ruled out what they could use and what they couldn't, all while Dean came up with a game plan of what they were going to do, mostly for Haley, Ben, and a begrudging Roy's benefit.

The sun set while Dean was making Anasazi symbols in the dirt around the little campsite, so Haley started a fire with a little help from Ben. Roy, in all of his helpfulness, just stood around with his gun, waiting. Sam was drawing symbols like his brother. Kind of. He was mostly just twirling a stick in the dirt and staring sadly.

Kat had finished setting up sleeping arrangements as best as she could for Haley, Ben, and Roy — she knew there would be little or no sleep for her and the boys — when she noticed how lost Sam looked. She stopped by to ask Haley if she or her brother needed anything, which they didn't, then she walked over to Sam. She sat next to him and said nothing. He glanced at her and said nothing.

Dean came over to them, clearing his throat and nodding at Kat, who quickly moved aside so he could sit next to Sam. "You wanna tell us what's going on in that freaky head of yours?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "Dean—"

"No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"

Kat nodded at Dean's words, almost echoing the ones she had said just hours before. Another moment of hesitation. "Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?"

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean nodded, sounding almost as sad as Sam. "Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek." The two brothers looked at each other.

"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?" Sam pelted the stick he was holding at the ground.

Dean got up and moved to sit across from him, allowing Kat to move back to her spot. He took the journal out and patted it. "This is why. This book. This is Dad's single, most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it onto us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off..." He kept going despite Sam's angry look. "You know, saving people, _hunting_ things. The family business."

Sam was clearly about to say something cruel, but stopped himself. He tried again. Then he settled for rubbing his face, sighing. "That makes no sense. Maybe he hasn't been here, but Kat was right about one thing. He's leaving these hunts for us to clean up. Why—why doesn't he just...call us? Why doesn't he tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

"—I don't know. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it." Dean was right to do this job, to help these people, but still made Kat a little sad to see the soldier he was for his father. He deserved so much more.

"Dean... _no_. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer." Overcome with emotion, Sam paused and looked down. "It's the only thing I can think about."

"Okay, alright, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me, you gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man."

Sam shook his head. "How do you do it?" He laughed softly. "How does Dad do it?"

"Well, for one, them." Dean looked over at Haley and Ben. "I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little more bearable." He watched Sam, who was staring at the other two siblings. "I'll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can."

Sam started to smile softly, then looked back at Kat. "How do you do it? _Why_ —" He stopped, but she already knew the rest of that question. _Why do you do it?_ Why didn't she leave with him? Why did she stay in this horrible life? Why didn't she run far, far away when she had the chance?

"Well..." She couldn't help but look at Dean. Sam couldn't help but notice. "Helping people is the biggest reason." Helping people. Helping Dean. "And taking out the monsters _is_ a pretty great stress reliever." She smiled and he almost smiled back, but he didn't get a chance to.

"Help me!" It was someone screaming again, nearby. They knew better than to think it was human now, Dean readying his gun and Sam grabbing a flashlight as they stood up. Kat followed them to the edge of the area in the direction the yelling was coming from. " _Please_!" Sam shined the flashlight through the forest. "Help!"

"He's trying to draw us out." Dean stepped back, looking around. "Just stay cool, stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy got a glare from him.

Kat was finding she had little patience for this man. "If you want to live."

"Help! Help me!" Trees rustled and a growl that was even beyond animalistic came from the same spot, making Roy turn his gun to it.

"Okay, that's no grizzly."

A fearful Ben held Haley's hand, pulling her back as she tried to comfort him. "It's okay. You'll be alright, I promise." As she said that, something rushed past and growled, making her scream.

"It's here." Sam was remaining calm.

The thing ran past again, through the trees, and Roy shot it again and again. "I hit it!" Without a second thought, he ran out of the 'magic circle' to find what he'd hit.

"Roy, no! Roy!"

Patience for him or not, Kat wasn't going to let him die, so she ran with Dean as he gave a strict warning for Haley and Ben not to move and left the circle, Sam close behind.

"It's over here! It's in the tree!"

"Roy!" When they made it to where his voice was coming from, there was nothing. No wendigo, no Roy, and not even rustling leaves. "Damn it. Roy?" Dean held his gun up. There was still nothing.

"—it took him." Kat ran a hand through her hair. "Shit. What now?"

"We get our asses after the wendigo before it can eat him." Dean still held his gun up as he looked back at Sam and Kat, nodding. "Back to the camp. Now." They didn't argue and he took a few steps back, before turning and following them. Haley and Ben were still there, the former holding a makeshift torch as a weapon.

"Where's Roy?" She already knew by the looks that crossed their faces. "Oh, God."

"If we head out by morning, we might be able to get him back." Dean stepped over the circle of symbols, putting his gun away. "For right now, we just gotta stay put."

"There's nothing out there now. It's satisfied with Roy, so hopefully it won't try to draw us out again." Sam moved to Haley, gently taking the stick and tossing it onto the campfire. "Maybe you two should try getting some sleep."

" _Sleep_? That thing has Tommy and now it has Roy! How am I supposed to sleep? It could easily get us if it wanted to."

Kat could see Ben trembling behind his sister. Seeing Haley freak out couldn't have been good for him. "The best thing we can do right now is stay here until morning. Sam told you it's an even better hunter at night, didn't he? So it's not gonna be good for us to go out there, right now, without a good plan. You and Ben should get some sleep. It can't get past the symbols, and even if it _does_ , you have three...rangers here to take care of it."

Haley looked at Ben, then back at Kat, nodding. "I...guess we should get some sleep. At least you should, Ben...come on..." She wrapped an arm around her brother, gently leading him to one of the makeshift beds.

"Nice one, Kat." Dean bumped into her gently, as they and Sam moved across the campsite. "I think she's trying not to freak out Ben, but she knows we're not rangers. I told her about me and Sam being brothers, our dad, and that you were helping us find him."

"Is that what I'm doing? Helping you find your dad?"

"—you're hard to explain, okay?"

She shook her head, sitting down in the dirt. Dean sat on a log, starting to thumb through John's journal, and Sam sat a little ways away to...think, apparently. At least, that's what he seemed to be doing as he stayed there quietly, staring at the campfire halfway across the campsite. All was pretty much silent.

Kat didn't exactly have anything _fun_ to do, so she spent her time equally between watching Dean read, watching Sam think, and softly humming some rock song she couldn't remember the name of _or_ get out of her head. Eventually, she glanced over at Haley and Ben to see them both seemingly fast asleep. A look at Sam told her he was sitting back against a tree, his arms crossed and eyes closed, though she could tell he wasn't sleeping.

"Hey. Come here."

She jumped slightly, assuming she was going to turn and see the wendigo trying to lure her out, but instead she saw Dean staring at her and patting part of the log. She narrowed her eyes and slowly moved to sit next to him.

To her surprise, he pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. "Hey, if you shoot me, I have Sam as a witness."

He rolled his eyes. "I want you to take it. Just in case."

"But...guns don't work on wendigos." She carefully took the gun from him anyway, looking at it in confusion.

"No. They don't. But if something happens, and if a bullet can distract the son of a bitch for a second, and get you, Sam, Haley, and Ben out of here...then I want you to try it."

"Why not give it to Sam?"

"Are you kidding? He'll have another mood swing and kill us."

"Shut _up_ , Dean."

Kat laughed softly, looking at Sam to see that he still had his eyes closed, but he looked a little bit grumpier. "Alright, I'll take it." She looked back at Dean. "You're talking like you're going to sacrifice yourself."

"Well, I'm gonna lead, so I'm at risk. It's just precaution, okay? Don't freak out."

"I _don't_ freak out, Dean." She really didn't. She could panic, sure, and even run away if she got really scared. She hadn't full on _freaked out_ since the night when her entire life changed. She had done her best to close off the childish part of her that would happily collapse, and sob, and talk nonsense in the face of monsters. That wouldn't go over well in the hunting world. Maybe she freaked out in other ways, but at least it wasn't obvious.

"Uh huh. Get some rest, Kat."

"What? No. I'm gonna stay up with you and Sam."

"Sam should sleep, too."

"Like hell."

Dean groaned, running a hand over his face. "You both gotta be stubborn? Don't come cryin' to me when you're bushed tomorrow."

"We won't."

The night progressed slowly and the air chilled with each passing hour. At one point, a slightly shivering Kat huddled up to Dean, who made no complaints and might have pressed against her just a _little_. It _was_ pretty cold. He continued to read the journal while she read bits and pieces from where her head was pressed to his arm, and eventually he grew bored and Sam asked to see the journal, so he tossed it over.

It was probably around four or so in the morning when Kat started to slump against Dean, and Sam was blinking hard and often as he read, and even Dean was having trouble holding his head up. It turns out, keeping guard all night with nothing to do didn't exactly help someone stay awake. They were almost wishing the wendigo would come by and give them something to do.

When Dean started to doze, he immediately jerked his head up and nudged Kat. She may have grumbled a bit, but she sat up straight and they soon engaged in a rather rousing time playing the hand slap game. It passed the time _and_ the sting when they landed slaps on each other pepped them up a bit. Unfortunately, after Kat slapped Dean's hands for about the tenth time, he growled in frustration and got up, mumbling something about 'needing air' even though they were out in the wilderness. He moved away and paced back and forth just inside the circle of symbols.

"He's such a sore loser." Sam sounded both amused and a little tired.

Kat looked over at Sam, smiling slightly. "Tell me about it." She stood before she could think about it and walked over, sitting next to him. She made the mistake of looking at him up close again; that seemed to get her every time. She would get determined, know that their relationship wasn't what it was, that he was going through things, that they had grown apart, that she was close with Dean now. But then she saw his face up close. That sweet, innocent face that still showed the Sam she knew even if he somehow looked so much different.

"I miss...Sam." Oh, God. What was _that_? Was she so tired that her brain forgot that sometimes words need to go between other words? Did she momentarily lapse and think she was talking to Dean? Was she just telling _this_ Sam that she really missed _that_ Sam, no matter how hard she tried to come to terms with all these changes? If it was the last one, it was getting to be a bit monotonous. Well, maybe 'monotonous' wasn't the right word. It was repetitive, yes, but certainly not uninteresting.

She supposed that, when you _really_ felt something, it was bound to rear its ugly head until you dealt with it. And she would have dealt with it, were it not for a moody Sam and how different she felt from the way she was three years ago.

"I miss Kat?" Sam seemed both confused and amused, chuckling a little with his words. Clearly, he was more tired than he let on. Sam was never really a goofy sort of person — Dean was more of the goofy type, though he'd never admit it, and Kat enjoyed that side of him — and he definitely wasn't now.

Dean had stormed over to them before any deep conversation could transpire. "Alright, we're doing a few more rounds. I just wasn't on my A game, okay?"

So they did. Kat pushed aside her usual fiery competitiveness and let him win until he was satisfied, all while Sam shot them looks like they were a couple of misbehaving kids. That goofiness wore off mighty quick.

* * *

With the morning came renewal. The rising sun had been a savior to their tired eyes, giving them all a bit more energy to carry on through the hell of a day that awaited them.

Haley and Ben woke up not long after the sunrise and now she knelt on the ground examining things once more while he sat a little bit away, quiet as ever. Dean was examining things, too, touching claw marks on a tree. Kat stood by him, arms crossed, looking at Ben and wishing she could comfort him, but knowing that wasn't her job and might freak the poor kid out even more. Sam had gone off with a quiet excuse of needing the bathroom, but was really just sitting against a tree stump, staring a bit mindlessly as he played with something that was hanging off of John's journal.

"I don't...I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real." Haley sat back on her heels, resting her hands on her thighs.

Dean walked over, crouching down in front of her. "I wish I could tell you different."

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

"We don't. But we're safe for now."

"—how do you know about this stuff?"

He paused for a moment as he tried to figure out an answer. "Kind of runs in the family."

Kat was a little confused when Haley looked at her expectantly, before remembering what Dean had told her last night. He had told Haley that they weren't rangers, that the two boys were brothers, and that Kat was 'helping them'. She knew she wasn't part of the family. "Kind of ran into their family." See? That wasn't 'hard to explain'. Vague, sure, but it wasn't all that _hard_. Besides, it made Haley give a half-hearted smile that was much deserved considering the situation she was thrust into.

There was the crunching of sticks and dirt as Sam came back to the campsite from wherever the hell he'd been. "Hey." His presence seemed to make Haley and Ben aware that things were about to progress, as they both stood up. "So, we've got half a chance in the daylight, and I, for one...want to kill this evil son of a bitch." His words were reminiscent of Dean's the night before. It seemed to have actually gotten through to him.

"Well, hell," Dean looked pleased. "you know I'm in."

Another expectant look, this time from Sam. It was almost like rectification. Like something clicked last night and their relationship was on the right track. That look, the extended hand it may have figuratively been, hardly made it past one track, though. Things were likely to move, still, at an agonizingly slow pace. But slow meant time, and time meant healing, and healing meant no rush of things that would cause unhealthy outbursts later.

Maybe.

"I'm right behind you."

Satisfied with their answers, Sam opened up John's journal to the portion on wendigos and pulled a pencil from the book, walking over to show Haley and Ben. "What we're dealing with is a wendigo. 'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word, it means 'evil that devours'."

"They're hundreds of years old." Dean chimed in, gathering a few things off the ground as he moved over. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman, or a miner, or a hunter."

Sam wandered over to Kat while Dean continued grabbing things. Haley looked confused, gaze flitting between Dean and her brother. "How's a man turn into one of those things?"

"Well, it's always the same." Dean sighed, picking up a beer bottle. "During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies and help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner Party." Ben finally had something to say, albeit something creepy, and he and his sister looked at Sam.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives the person certain abilities; speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it, over years you become this...less than human thing. You're always hungry."

"So, if that's true...how can Tommy still be alive?" A heartbreaking doubt had crept into Haley's tone.

Dean looked at Sam, who immediately walked away to avoid the explanation, then he looked to Kat for help. She nodded, so he turned back to Haley. "You're not gonna like it."

"Tell me."

"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there." He gestured behind himself to Kat and Sam, who had rejoined them.

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well," Dean chuckled. "guns are useless, so are knives..."

Kat was all too aware of the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Useless. Dean had given it to her as a way to distract the wendigo if nothing else, but in this situation, it was still just that. Almost completely useless. A last-ditch effort.

"Basically..." Dean lifted up the items he had gathered; a beer bottle, a cloth, and a can of lighter fluid. The perfect ingredients for a molotov cocktail. "We gotta torch this sucker." He gave them a grin, then went to quick work making it. "We head out now. We stick close together, okay? No wandering off. If something happens to me, you stick with Sam. If something happens to Sam, you stick with Kat and fight if you have to, but I'd prefer you all just leave." He gave Kat a look when she opened her mouth to protest. " _All of you_." He knew Kat could handle herself and the two Collins, but the thought of her facing a wendigo technically on her own scared the shit out of him more than he'd admit. "If something happens to all three of us, you run like hell and don't look back. Understand?"

Haley and Ben just nodded. Not listening was too much of a risk.

They all headed out with Dean in the lead, following an awfully consistent trail of bloody claw marks that were slashed into trees. Something wasn't right about this — the fact that they were hunting down a wendigo aside — and Kat could feel it. She was walking alongside Sam in the back of the group and could tell by the way he looked around that he could feel it, too. He glanced at her, before moving ahead of everyone as they came to a clearing.

"Dean! Kat!" The two ran over to Sam, who had stopped to look at several trees. Almost every single one had claw marks in the bark. Dean wandered a few steps away to get a closer look while Kat stayed back with Haley and Ben. Sam followed his brother, clenching his fists and speaking in a whisper through his teeth, "You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct," He gave a humorless laugh. "they were almost too easy to follow."

The distance was small enough that Kat could hear him, and she opened her mouth to agree, but immediately froze when growling started to come from all around them. She was between Haley and Ben and put her arms out to guide them back with her, as all five of them backed away from the noise and rustling leaves. Suddenly, she heard a different noise. _Pat_ , like the sound of a heavy raindrop. She slowly looked over to Haley, seeing little drops of an easily identifiable red liquid. Both girls looked up to see a body hanging overhead, about to drop.

Haley screamed and Kat immediately shoved her forward, using the same momentum to stumble back into a tree as Roy's body fell between them. Haley had fallen and rolled onto her back away from the body, while Kat pressed tightly against the tree's trunk, both of them staring at the body. Seeing a dead body became less terrifying over time, but it never became less shocking.

"Kat!" Dean's concerned yell was met with a reassuring nod, so he ran over to check out Roy's body.

Sam rushed over to Haley with Ben behind him, crouching down to help her up. "You okay? You got it?"

"His neck's broke." Dean stood up. The growling continued. "Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!" He quickly pushed Ben and Sam ahead, waiting a beat for Kat as she pulled out that useless gun, before pushing her ahead of him, too. "Go, Kat, now!"

They ran like their lives depended on it; which they did. They dodged trees and plants as best as they could, but Ben tripped over some underbrush and tumbled to the ground. Sam was quick to turn back for him just as Kat was. He turned her right back around. "Go."

"But—"

"Go!"

She hesitated and ultimately listened. She was stubborn, yes, but just like Haley and Ben, not listening was too much of a risk. Her feet pounded against the ground as she left Sam and ran to catch up with Haley and Dean; she was met by the sound of Haley's scream and the sight of the wendigo right in front of the poor girl and Dean. She skidded to a stop too quickly, stumbling and landing right on her ass as the pale, gangly, all-around horrifying _thing_ grabbed the two like it was nothing.

She didn't have much time to think, her instinct taking over as she raised the gun and shot at the thing. It was too damn fast. If she did get any hits in, it didn't even _notice_ , and just darted and jumped around, dragging Haley and Dean away at the speed of light.

 _Click. Click. Click._

The gun was empty, bullets essentially wasted, and the wendigo was out of sight. She let out a yelp when a pair of hands grabbed onto her arms, immediately twisting around to shoot whatever it was and silently thanking the heavens for that fourth _click_ when she saw it was Sam who had a hold of her.

"Hey, hey, it's me. It's okay." He hauled her to her feet easily.

"It has Dean!" There was an edge of panic to her voice. She wasn't _freaking out_ , just panicking a little, which she felt was perfectly okay given the situation. Losing Dean scared the hell out of her more than most monsters could.

Ben had come up behind Sam, looking around worriedly. "Haley?"

"—it's okay, Kat." Sam seemed to be reassuring himself with that, as he picked up a broken piece of Dean's molotov cocktail. "Dean!" It was worth a shot, though they all knew that Dean and Haley wouldn't come running over.

"Where's Haley? Where's my sister?"

That broke Kat out of her panic. If there was one useful thing that John taught her, it was that you didn't show your fear in front of civilians. It didn't matter that she wasn't often prone to full on freaks out, just a little fear was enough to spur a _whole lot_ of fear into someone who wasn't used to this. It was like being a cop or a parent. You keep calm, no matter how dire the situation is, to keep the innocent from getting scared. Even if your sort-of best friend was now in the clutches of a cannibalistic monster.

Ben was just a _kid_. She was that kid once. Confused, scared, alone. She didn't know if John was afraid that night when he rescued her, but if he was, he didn't show it. He just protected her and saved her.

Her empathy would always beat out her fear anyway.

"It's alright." There was still a little fear in her voice. She cleared her throat and put the now even more useless gun back into the waistband of her jeans. "It just took them, so if we move fast, I know we can get to them before it's hungry again." Dean affectionately called it 'beast mode' when she got like this. She did her best to be good and nice, if not happy to participate in a bit of witty banter, but she was protective. She was _tough_. Sometimes she had to push aside other feelings to get the job done. It was what she was taught. Like when she was completely willing to punch open the Impala's window to somehow get Constance away from Sam back in Jericho.

Sam nodded, dropping the bit of glass and cloth. "She's right. Which way?"

"Straight ahead."

"We stick together. Got it?" With Kat and Ben's agreement, the three started ahead in the direction Dean and Haley had been dragged off in.

They walked silently for a little while, maybe a few ragged breaths here and there from the rough terrain they were trekking over. Ben eventually spoke up again, saying more words than he had in the entire time since they met him, "If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?"

"Honestly?" Sam looked at him. "I think because Roy shot at it, pissed it off." He then gave Kat a look, knowing she had done the exact same thing.

"I know. I'm grateful." She could hardly be sweet or banter. Her mind was too focused on the tasks at hand; protect the kid, find Dean, kill the wendigo.

Given that it was a forest, 'straight ahead' could only last them so long. There were a dozen ways the wendigo could have taken them and it hadn't left marks for them to follow, so Sam went to the right, Kat continued straight, and Ben went to the left. They searched for any signs, being sure to stay close.

"They went this way!" Ben's almost gleeful call had the two hunters running to him, and he handed a peanut M&M to Sam.

He looked at it and laughed, tossing it aside. "It's better than breadcrumbs."

'Beast mode' faltered for a second as Kat squeezed Sam's arm, all three of them sharing a grin before they followed the trail of M&M's. It wasn't long until it lead them down a little slope that they climbed down carefully. A push past some small trees and there it was. It was a little mine shaft with a sign that warned of toxic materials, but it was perfect. Dark, hidden, and safe.

Sam looked back with a shrug and stepped in first, followed a bit hesitantly by Ben, with Kat taking up the rear. It certainly was _dark_. Not to mention dank and full of unidentifiable, unpleasant smells. Luckily, Sam still had the flashlight from the night before, and turned it on once the light from outside faded away.

They were following a track through the mine when there was suddenly a growl. Both Sam and Kat quickly grabbed Ben and lead him into a tunnel off to the side, the three of them pressing tightly against the wall to avoid being seen. A now familiar lanky figure began to pass by.

"Holy—"

Sam clamped a hand over Ben's mouth, shoving him back. "Shh." They waited in silence until the wendigo walked the other way and disappeared, then moved fast to continue on down the main shaft of the mine. Of course, they could only make it so far before the sound of creaking beneath their feet made them pause.

 _Snap_.

Old, weak wooden boards gave way beneath their weight, sending them tumbling down to the hard ground below. The fall wasn't far enough to do lasting damage, but it was just far enough to _hurt_ , which Kat couldn't help noting when she landed and rolled next to Sam, both of them groaning from aching spots that were sure to bruise.

"Sam?"

"I'm fine." At least he meant it this time, now that it was physical rather than the mental effects of losing Jess. "You okay?"

"Could be worse. Could be Roy."

They both sat up when a noise of fear came from Ben, and the kid was scrambling backwards onto their legs. "Hey," Sam grabbed onto him. "It's okay...it's okay, it's okay." There were bones and skulls on the ground around them. But that didn't matter as much as the two _very_ important people hanging by their wrists just off to the side.

Sam was up and running first, then Kat. 'Beast mode' was deactivated as soon as she saw Dean there, mostly safe. That was one thing that differentiated her from him and John. She was well-trained, but she wasn't trained for life. Her emotions were still there a little too much, and she could only be hardened for so long, and usually only when it was absolutely necessary. Sam had been the same way; she couldn't be sure if he was now.

"Dean." Sam grabbed onto his brother. Ben went to Haley and did the same.

"Haley, wake up!"

"Dean!" Sam gave him a shake and the older Winchester opened his eyes with a groan. "Hey, you okay?"

He gave a wince of pain, but nodded anyway. "Yeah. Kat—?"

"She's here." Sam stepped aside, letting him see Kat. He stayed close still to cut the rope that was around Dean's wrists. He fell the moment he was released, both Sam and Kat each catching a side of him and helping him to a more level spot of ground, where he immediately dropped with a grunt of pain. Ben had helped Haley down and brought her over to the same spot. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah." Pain was evident in his voice, and Kat reached out to smooth back his — admittedly sweaty and grimy — hair to comfort him. She was so relieved to see him, she would have hugged him if he weren't obviously in pain. "Yeah. Where is it?"

"It's gone." Sam looked around. "For now."

Haley, with Ben's help, was getting the ropes from around her wrists when she looked up and saw Tommy hanging there, completely limp. Her tears were immediate as she easily assumed the worst, getting up and walking over to him. Sam followed to survey the situation and help however he could. Kat sat next to Dean and watched on sadly.

"Tommy..." Haley sniffled, reaching up to touch his face. But he suddenly jerked up the moment she touched him, gasping, making her scream and everyone in the room jump in surprise. Haley's tears turned to a smile as she grabbed onto her brother and looked back at Sam. "Cut him down!" He didn't hesitate to do what she asked.

Even more relief flooded Kat, knowing Tommy was okay. She always hoped the hunts would turn out okay, and so far, this one was turning out better than expected. She turned to look at Dean, who was leaning on her a bit too heavily. "Hey..."

"I'm _fine_ , Kat." He opened up to her more than most people, but it was still barely anything — again, he would rant sometimes, which was about it, so sure that he had to keep things kept in. That vulnerable feelings were weak — and physical pain was, unfortunately, included in that. "—Kat." His tone changed, almost excited. She looked around him to see that he had grabbed a bag—no, not just _a_ bag. Their bag of weapons that the wendigo had stolen. He took out a couple guns, standing with one of Kat's hands on his arm and the other one on his back, helping him up. "Check it out!"

The tender reunion between siblings took a pause as everyone looked over.

"Flare guns." Sam smiled. "Those'll work."

Dean, being the goof he didn't know he was, spun the guns on his fingers like a cowboy from an old Western movie, grinning. After several reassurances that he was okay, he took the lead in the group's escape, carrying one gun and Sam carrying the other. Kat turned her attention to the obviously worse-off-than-Dean Tommy, helping Haley support his weight through the mine. She felt Ben suddenly clinging to her and Tommy as a growl came from somewhere ahead of them.

Sam raised his gun and Dean looked around carefully. "Looks like someone's home for supper."

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said with a bit of a glare at Dean's words.

He looked back at them, then at Sam. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Alright, listen to me." He met Haley's eyes. "Stay with Sam and Kat, they're gonna get you out of here."

Kat knew what that meant. "—Dean, no."

"What are you gonna do?" Haley's question was met with a wink, before Dean ran off.

"Dean!"

"Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste _good_." He waved for them all to leave and then disappeared down another tunnel.

"Dean!" Kat made sure Ben could slip in to help support Tommy, stepping forward. Sam grabbed her arm before she could make it more than that one step.

"He knows what he's doing. He's gonna be fine."

She knew Dean. She knew _that_ , and Sam knew that she knew that, and God bless him for trying to comfort her, but one thing was clear. Dean in danger terrified her. It didn't matter if he was better at this than her.

But, once again, it did matter that Haley, Ben, and Tommy were there. Dean _could_ handle himself and they _couldn't_ , not without her and Sam. She didn't enter 'beast mode' again, but was going to make damn sure that they got out of there safe and sound, and hoped the same for Dean.

Sam released her and walked down the tunnel to make sure Dean had gotten far enough ahead. "Alright, come on. Hurry!"

Kat went back to support Tommy, giving Ben's untrained frame a rest, so they could go as quickly as possible. And go they did, until a growl that was _too close_ made them stop, and Sam raised the gun. He turned to them, looking directly at Kat.

"Get him out of here, now."

"Sam, no!" It was Haley who protested first.

Kat was torn. She knew she had to get them to safety; she also knew that Sam was so, _so_ important to her still even if they were no longer close, and leaving him was just as bad as leaving Dean. "Sam..."

She hardly had an argument to give since Haley, Ben, and Tommy relied on her. Sam didn't give her room for one in the first place, looking at her sternly and almost apologetically. "Go! _Go_! Go!"

"—come on." She lead them in the opposite direction, to what they were sure was the exit of the mine, where Ben was already impatiently tugging his sister. There was the hiss of a flare going off then an inhuman roar, and Kat looked back in panic as Haley called out for Sam.

It was a damn good day for relief as Sam's figure came running down the tunnel after them, pushing them forward. "Hurry, hurry, hurry!" The wendigo that followed him provided a bit less relief. They ran as fast as they could and turned down a tunnel, only to come to a complete dead end. "—get behind me!"

With one arm around Tommy, Kat put the other around Ben, huddling close to fit behind Sam as he spread out his own arms protectively. She could sense his own fear, though. He had no weapon now, no plan, no way to really fight back. All he could do was protect them with his larger stature and leave them to all hope for a miracle.

Less relief and more resignation to their fate when the wendigo turned down the tunnel.

"Sam?" Kat wished she could do _something_. She was in the same boat as him. The only weapon she had was the empty gun, and at least Sam had his height to give him the _slightest_ advantage.

"It's okay...it's okay..." He was panting harshly, pushing them back farther.

The wendigo _stopped_ , and _roared_ , and then—

"Hey!" There was that miracle. Dean Winchester, the light at the end of the tunnel, shooting a flare at the creature as soon as it turned to look at him.

It went up into flames, screaming again and again as it burned, and it wasn't until it crumpled to the ground that Sam lowered his arms.

"Not bad, huh?" This time, Dean's comment made them all grin. It was easier to find joy when there wasn't a nearly invincible creature after them. Ben was staring at the wendigo in horror and wonder, but he probably would have grinned, too.

Kat maneuvered Tommy so he was being supported on one side by Ben again, now that they weren't in immediate danger, and she stepped around Sam. Then she ran. She skirted around the still-burning wendigo, so overwhelmingly glad to see Dean alive that she threw her arms around him, making him groan in pain.

"Kat! Kat— Jesus—" He laughed slightly, patting her back. "I'm fine."

"I know. I'm just glad you're okay..." She pulled back a little to just look at him. He was so damn important to her that it was almost insanity; the thought of him being taken away from her was devastating. Just the _thought_ made her emotions physical, a burning loss squeezing in her chest. But he was _here_ and everything turned out _okay_.

"I am. Seriously. But...maybe lighten up a little?" He gave another grunt and she quickly stepped back to avoid causing him more pain. Sam, Haley, Ben, and Tommy had made their way over to them.

Sometimes it takes a split second to do something really big. That split second could be filled with many different things; bravery, want, need, love, or simply not caring about the details or repercussions. It could make you confess a secret, take a step, face your fears, or even jump off a bridge to avoid getting run over by a ghost in a car.

Kat was full of relief and she _didn't_ care about the details or the repercussions as she turned and hugged Sam tightly, her fingers grasping the material of the back of his jacket. It didn't matter that things were weird, or strained, or distant in that moment, she just needed to _hug_ him because they made it out alive. Together.

There was just a moment of hesitation before his arms slipped around her in return. He gave a sigh that didn't sound annoyed so much as...content. Like he had needed the embrace that he had refused to accept because of his shoved down feelings, even more than the night he sobbed in her arms.

The hug felt like a promise. That things weren't going to be the same for a long time, and maybe not ever, but that they could move forward. They could find some sort of friendship again someday.

The theme of relief carried on in Dean's slightly weak smile as he watched the little bit of healing before him. "Alright, alright. Let's get outta here."

* * *

They made it back to the campsite and then back to the Impala by the time the sun was setting, where they all piled in and made their way to the ranger station where the police were immediately called. Tommy was, of course, the first to be checked out by paramedics and hauled into an ambulance given the state of him. Dean and Haley were patched up, then they looked over Sam, Kat, and Ben, who were all pretty much fine aside from a few scrapes and bruises. Sam and Ben spoke with the police, lying about some grizzly bear out in the forest, Haley and Dean walked together, and Kat leaned against the sign for the station.

Sam walked over to stand next to her, hands in his jacket pockets, looking around quietly for a moment. "—I get it."

"Huh?" She looked at him. "You get what?"

"What you said. Last night." He cleared his throat, jaw clenching. "You miss Sam. You miss who I was before I left...and I miss you, too, Kat, but you gotta understand..." He turned to face her fully. "It's been a _long_ time, and with everything now...I just..." He faltered, still not ready to open up. "I want us to be _us_ again, but it's hard."

Kat blinked. Were they...dealing with their feelings? It shocked her a little bit. She had obviously spent too much time with Dean and John. "I know, Sam. Things have changed. W _e_ have changed." And grown apart, and grown close to other people, and suffered, and all of those fun things.

"I just...I don't want us to be awkward, you know? I can't promise that it's gonna be the way it was before, but I want us to try. You were my best friend."

"Try." She smiled. "I'd like that, Sam." She really would. Some switch had been set off by this hunt and it was for the better. It was the start of something new and old, and while it wouldn't automatically make them close and perfectly okay again, it was still damn good.

From afar, she saw Dean leaning against the Impala and receiving a kiss on the cheek from Haley. "Looks like they're heading out." She pushed off the sign and walked over with Sam close behind, both of them moving to stand next to Dean.

Haley had her arm around Ben, the latter of which nodded to Sam and Kat in apprecation for what they did. Haley smiled softly. "Thanks, Sam. Thanks, Kat." Then they turned away and got into the ambulance with Tommy, a paramedic closing the doors.

"—man, I hate camping."

Sam just quirked his eyebrows a bit at his brother's words. "Me, too."

"Make that three...and I still don't like forests. Wendigos are totally worse than Jason Voorhees could ever be."

A moment of silence passed before Dean spoke again, "Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah. I know. But in the meantime..." Sam turned to look at Dean with a smirk. "I'm driving."

The keys were tossed to him with a fair amount of reluctance, but he caught them easily and got in the driver's side as Dean moved to the passenger's side. Kat's smile was similar to Dean's before, watching the sweet exchange between the brothers, before she climbed into the back of the car.

"Pick good music, Sam."

"—Sammy, I swear to God, if you pick something cheesy..."

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! A little healing is happening :) Nothing major, but things are starting. I hope I conveyed things well and I'm sorry this took a little long, I was figuring out directions I wanted to take it in. A new episode starts next chapter! Hope you enjoyed! Sorry if there are any mistakes, I tend to write a lot late at night lol. Review if you want!**


	6. Dead in the Water: Part One

**A/N: Sorry about the wait! This episode is not the easiest to work with, but I hope you enjoy what I've come up with :) And I definitely hope you're all still interested in this story.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

 **Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin**

* * *

A girl walked into a little kitchen where an older man sat reading at the table and a younger man sat on the counter with a bowl of cereal. She moved to kiss the older man on the back of the head. "Morning, Daddy."

"Morning, sweetheart."

She walked over to grab a sports drink out of the fridge, her brother looking up at her from his cereal. "All these workouts, Soph, I don't know. Guys don't like buff girls."

"Yeah, well, girls don't like guys who still live at home." Sophie's joke got her a sarcastic laugh, which she returned, before going to the door and opening it.

"Be careful!" The older man, her father Bill, called to her without looking up from his newspaper.

"I will." She smiled and shut the door, walking away from the house and to the lake. She took off her blue tracksuit and stood in her bikini on the edge of a dock, looking out over the water and listening to the sounds of nature for a moment. She then dived in smoothly, swimming expertly just beneath the surface.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was _there_. She soon broke through the surface, taking in a lungful of air, and looked around. There didn't seem to be another person or even an animal in sight. She shrugged it off, swimming a few feet and then diving back underwater. She only managed a few breaststrokes before she was swimming back up again, sure there was someone hanging around.

There was still no one, but there was suddenly whispering come from all around her. A hand wrapped around her ankle and yanked her down into the water.

She didn't even get to struggle.

* * *

With some convincing, Sam agreed to focus on hunts and make searching for John a secondary endeavor. He didn't seem to want to be found, so it was best to do some work and hope they found him along the way.

This thinking worked out for maybe a week or so before Sam was already getting antsy and on the edge again, trying and failing to not let it show in the way he snapped at Dean and Kat every once in a while. Sure, things were being patched up, but Sam had his own, personal feelings that were rearing their ugly heads because he wouldn't deal with them. He and Kat or even he and Dean could get as close and loving as they wanted; it didn't resolve the feelings he had for Jess, the thing that killed her, and his dad. He refused to deal with the pain of it all, and it wasn't having the best effects.

Dean and Kat were just thankful he wasn't moping around miserably like before. Even if the snapping was a little irritating.

They were trying hard to find a good hunt to fill the waiting time, Dean circling suspicious obituaries in local newspapers as they sat in a little restaurant that was part of the almost decent hotel they were staying at. While the hotel was decent and the restaurant had some nice, comforting food, Kat was drinking some rather less-than-stellar coffee as she sat beside Dean at the bar. Sam had gone off to use the bathroom a couple minutes before.

Their waitress came over, leaning on the bar and smiling at Dean, pretty much ignoring Kat's presence. Not that it mattered, really, it was just a little insulting. "Can I get you anything else?"

Dean looked at her, a pen between his teeth since he'd been chewing on it, and he gave her a flirtatious smile. He didn't get a chance to say anything, though, as Sam walked over and sat down.

"Just the check, please."

Kat suddenly didn't mind being ignored. The waitress looked at Sam like he was some sort of second class citizen and gave an uncaring, "Okay." She then gave Dean another smile, walking away.

Dean dropped his head to the bar. "You know, Sam," He raised his head to look at his brother. "we are allowed to have fun once in a while." He pointed after the waitress, whose hips were shaking as she walked off. "That's fun."

"She's not my type." Kat met Dean's glare with a smile, sipping her coffee.

When he turned back to Sam, all he got was a look, so he sighed and tossed the newpaper in front of him. "Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconson. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake...doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."

Sam made a face. "A _funeral_?"

"That's funny."

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever."

"What? No, not that. It's not funny or _weird_." Kat set down her coffee. "They're grieving. It's just funny that my dad is...well, was from Lake Manitoc." A pang of something hit her. A little pain. That pain may have been dull and hidden, and the simple mention of her family didn't hurt like it used to a few years ago, but memories were still hard. The thought of her father's home made her remember the little things he told her about growing up there...which wasn't much. He had kept quiet about his childhood, always told her he preferred Missouri. He had always pronounced it 'Missour-uh', swearing up and down that _all_ the locals called it that. They didn't, and she knew that even at a young age, but she just let him be.

Kat smiled a bit. It wasn't often she let those memories come forward for fear of the pain, so it was nice that this one was more pleasant than painful. Even if it still hurt a bit.

Sam looked at her, another look of curiosity like when she had mentioned her brother, but he didn't push it and turned his attention back to Dean. "Closure? What closure?" He let out a little laugh, his tone becoming bitter. "People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for 'em."

"Somethin' you wanna say to me?"

"The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day."

"Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know! Something. _Anything_."

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just—"

"Kat and I have been the ones with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies." Dean's tone had turned harsh, obviously hurt by the blame Sam seemed to be putting on him. "We will _find_ Dad, but until then we're gonna find everything bad," he tapped on the newspaper. "between here and there. Okay?"

In typical 'younger brother' fashion, Sam just gave a little roll of his eyes.

"I just don't think your dad wants to be found and, knowing him, he's not gonna let us find him until he wants us to." Kat could be a mediator just as much as Dean. Fights between the boys weren't enjoyable or wanted, so she shoved those thoughts about her father back down to help comfort Sam. "Maybe that'll be tomorrow, maybe it'll be six months from now, but either way, we can't just search random places or sit around hoping he shows up. There are people to help and _we_ can help them along the way. Otherwise, we're just wasting time."

Sam met her eyes. "Alright," he relented. "Lake Manitoc." He received no response, as Dean had already become distracted after the waitress passed by. "Hey!"

"Huh?"

"How far?"

"A few hours, but with my driving, we could probably make it in a couple."

"You know that's not a _good_ thing, right?" Kat stood up, grabbing her jacket. "We're pretty lucky we make it anywhere in one piece."

"Hey, I'd _never_ let any harm come to that car."

"It concerns me that you care more about hurting the car than you care about hurting Sam or me."

* * *

True to his word, Dean got them to Lake Manitoc in a couple, only slightly terrifying hours, driving on until they made it to the family home of the girl who drowned. A young man answered the door when they knocked and Dean immediately knew it was the brother mentioned in the girl's obituary.

"Will Carlton?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"I'm Agent Ford. This is Agent...Hamill and Agent Fisher." He lifted up an ID. "We're with the US Wildlife Service. We wanted to ask some questions about your sister, Sophie."

Will just nodded, stepping out of the house. "I already talked to, like, a hundred different kinds of officers. I don't know what else to tell you."

"Do you think you could show us where everything happened before we ask you any questions?" Kat asked, receiving a nod from him as they walked down the steps. Will lead them across from the house to the lake, where an older man, presumably Sophie's father, was sitting silently on a bench on the dock.

"She was about a hundred yards out." He nodded towards the water. "That's where she got dragged down."

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Yeah, she was a varsity swimmer." Will smiled fondly. "She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."

"So no splashing? No signs of distress?"

"No, that's what I'm telling you."

Kat looked out at the lake. It was calm. "Did you see anything? Like...a person...an animal...even just a figure of some sort?"

"Any shadows in the water?" Sam delved into more detail. "Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"

"No, again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean added in his own question, which Will shook his head to as a response.

"No, never..." He furrowed his brow. "Why? Why, what do you think's out there?"

Dean hesitated. "—we'll let you know as soon as we do." With that, he turned and walked back to where he had parked the Impala. Kat cast Will a sympathetic look and moved to follow, but they both stopped as Sam asked,

"What about your father? Can we talk to him?"

Will looked back at the dock where his father still sat. "Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

"We understand." Sam nodded, turning to go to the car.

"Thank you for your time. Sorry for your loss..." Kat smiled gently before finishing her walk to the car, getting into the backseat. She wondered if people's pain would ever get less difficult the way that hunting monsters had. She hoped it wouldn't. What would it say of her if she became indifferent to someone else's pain? She looked into the front of the car, where Sam was settling in his seat and Dean was starting the engine. "What now?"

"We go to the police..." Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, before turning his attention ahead as he pulled the car away from the house. "Find out about the other victims...if there are any similarities other than the missing bodies."

"You gonna insult them if they don't have anything?" Sam snorted, giving his brother a look.

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times before simply mumbling, "Maybe."

The town wasn't exactly ginormous, so the drive to the police station was hardly more than five or so minutes. They met a sheriff, Jake Devins, lied again with their most definitely Star Wars-esque names and asked for any information about the drowning, and he let them behind the desk despite some suspicion.

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?"

"You sure it's accidental?" Sam sighed as the three followed Jake to his office. "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."

"Like what? Sit, please." He gestured to two chairs, which Sam and Dean took while Kat stood just behind them. Jake moved behind his desk. "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah," Dean chuckled, "right."

"That would be impossible. Nessie's in Scotland." Kat really said it to, perhaps, assure herself that it couldn't be the Loch Ness Monster. Knowing what she knew, it was a possibility that the thing was real, but it definitely couldn't have gotten from Scotland to here. Could it? She earned a look from Sam either way.

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still..." Jake sat down in his chair. "We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though." Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I mean, that's...that's the third missing body this year."

"I know. These are people from my town." Jake spoke softly, looking between the three of them as he did. "There are people I care about."

"I know."

"What if it's something that can be in water and on land?" Kat posed the question for more than a couple reasons. To keep up their facade of being with the Wildlife Service, to ease the sheriff's confusion that she was sure didn't help his pain, and to explore all possibilities before declaring this to be something of their expertise. "Maybe something drowned them and took the bodies away."

"Like an alligator in Wisconsin?" Jake looked up at her with understandably tired eyes. "Or maybe a crocodile? I don't think so." He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Anyway, all this...it won't be a problem much longer."

Dean blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the dam, of course." Jake stated it like it was obvious, like he expected them to know. Like they should have, considering they were part of the US Wildlife Service.

"Yeah." Kat swatted Dean's shoulder gently with the back of her hand. "The dam, remember?"

"Yeah, the dam...of course..." He looked at up at her then over at Sam and back to Jake, nodding. "It's, uh, it sprung a leak."

"—it's falling apart. And the fed's won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake...there won't be much of a _town_ , either. But as Federal Wildlife—" The way he mentioned their supposed job seemed to hint that his suspicion was growing again. "—you already knew _that_."

Dean just nodded, playing his part. "Exactly."

There was suddenly a loud tap on the door, followed by a female voice, "Sorry, am I interrupting?" The new presence had Kat turning around and the boys standing from their chairs, almost like gentlemen. Almost. There was no doubt that the respect was partly because the woman who stood by the door was nothing if not a natural beauty. "I can come back later."

"Gentlemen," Jake stood, hands on his hips, smiling proudly. "This is my daughter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Dean was quick to swoop in, shaking her hand eagerly. "I'm Dean."

"Andrea Barr. Hi."

"Hi."

The sheriff was no fool and interrupted, "They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake."

"—oh." Andrea glanced away from Dean to Sam and Kat, before a little boy stepped in beside her.

"Oh, well, hey there." Dean smirked at the kid. He was never afraid to impress a woman by being sweet to children, which Kat had witnessed too many times to count. "What's your name?" His question was met unanswered as the boy simply turned and walked out of the room. Andrea looked around the room apologetically before following him.

"His name is Lucas." Jake filled them in as they watched Andrea give the boy crayons to color with in the other room.

"Is he okay?" Sam looked back at the sheriff.

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have." He moved around his desk, walking over to the door. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know." He gave Dean a pat on the back as he was the first to walk out of the room, with Sam and Kat close behind.

"Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it," Dean, of course, turned his attention to Andrea rather than Jake. "could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

"Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner, it's two blocks south."

"Two—" Dean pointed, looking confused about those couple of blocks, before giving his most charming smile to Andrea. "Would you mind showing us?"

Sam looked at Kat, rolling his eyes, and she nodded in understanding. Poor Dean couldn't have been more obvious if he tried.

Andrea laughed. "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"Not if it's any trouble."

"I'm headed that way anyway." She smiled, turning to her father. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." She bent down to kiss Lucas on the head. "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" She then turned to the door to lead them two blocks to the motel.

Dean waved to Jake and followed Andrea with Sam behind him. Kat stayed back for just a second or so to watch Lucas color; he looked so...distant. She wondered what the sheriff meant by him being through a lot...he was just a _kid_. But that was always how it was, wasn't it? Always just kids, going through hell, growing up before they even had a chance to be young. She went to the door, seeing Sam had stopped to wait for her, and they both shared slightly forced smiles before catching up with Dean and Andrea.

"So, cute kid."

"Thanks."

"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean didn't even sound all that convincing. Andrea just gave him a smile as they crossed the street to where the motel was.

Another look between Sam and Kat, the former smiling in amusement and the latter laughing softly at Dean's attempts.

"There it is, like I said. Two blocks." Though Sam uttered a thank you, Andrea just looked up at Dean. "It must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick up line." She walked off, leaving a confused and disappointed Dean. "Enjoy your stay!"

Kat laughed again, a bit louder. "I like her. She's smart."

"Kids are the best?" Sam grinned. "You don't even _like_ kids."

"I love kids!"

"Name three children that you even _know_."

Dean raised his hand to count of any kids he might know. When a beat of silence passed, Sam waved him off and continued on into the motel, as Dean continued to try and come up with _something_ , scratching his head. "I'm thinking!" He followed his brother, glancing at Kat who was walking beside him. "I like kids."

"I know." She pulled the door open. "But I'm pretty sure that wasn't about kids so much as the place kids come out of."

* * *

They ended up going to the park later that day. Not for anything fun, of course, but they knew that Andrea and Lucas would be there. After doing a little research on the internet, Sam had discovered that Andrea's husband had been one of the victims, and that Lucas had been there to witness his own father's demise. No wonder the kid seemed so off. It was the exact situation Kat had feared. Another kid, ruined.

He was just like her. Just like Dean, who had mentioned that it wasn't something you just get over. He was so right. Even if the pain dulled, you got distracted, you moved on...it would always be there. But the kid was worse off, having not had the years that Kat and Dean had to grow as best as they could.

There was a picture on an article, of Lucas wrapped up in a blanket, soaked to the bone and looking scared as a spooked animal. Kat figured it was going to be stuck with her forever, and knew that to be true when she saw the kid coloring at a bench and the image flashed through her mind. It was always hard when the most innocent were involved, and especially hard knowing he had been through something so similar to her.

They approached a bench where Andrea was sitting and Sam asked, "Can we join you?"

"—I'm here with my son."

"Oh. Mind if I say hi?" Dean didn't wait for an answer, just walked off to the bench where Lucas was still coloring.

Andrea smiled, almost laughing. "Tell your friend this whole _Jerry Maguire_ thing's not gonna work on me."

Sam sat down, leaving enough room at the edge of the bench for Kat to sit beside him. "I don't think that's what this is about."

"Dean can be a real charmer, but trust me. This is different." Kat sat back, feeling Sam's arm on the back of the bench behind her. It felt a little out of place for the both of them, but their friendship would never get back to the way it was if they let their distance make them awkward and jumpy.

"How's it going?" Dean had made it over to Lucas, kneeling down across the bench from him with a small laugh. There was a beat of silence. His eyes strayed to a few army men that were on the bench and he grinned, picking one up. "Aw, I used to love these things." He mimicked the sounds of gunshots and explosions, before making the army man 'scream' and fall down to the bench. Lucas just kept on coloring, not looking at him let alone seeming impressed or amused by his antics. "—so, crayons is more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists." He looked threw a small pile of drawings that were already done; a black swirl, a bright red bicycle. "These are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while? I'm not so bad myself."

He knew he wouldn't get a response, so he just grabbed a crayon and pad of paper, moving to sit on the bench and start drawing. "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad." He looked at Lucas almost sadly. "I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something—" He stopped short, trying to carry on, emotions passing over his face. It wasn't something you just get over. "—anyway...maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you. Or, uh, or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything, you could draw me a picture. About what you saw that day...with your dad. On the lake." He still received no response from Lucas.

"Okay. No problem. This is for you." He held out his drawing of stick figures, pointing to each one of them. "This is my family. That's my dad. That's...that's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me." He paused on a fifth figure, thinking for a moment. "That's Kat. She's my...friend. She knows how to make ya feel like you're worth a dam— special." That was some cheesy Mr. Roger's shit, but he couldn't very well get deep and cuss-happy around a little kid. "She knows how to make you feel special." His picture barely got a glance from Lucas. "Alright, so I'm a sucky artist. See you around, Lucas." He tossed the crayon down and stood up, setting the pad of paper down where he had been sitting, walking back over to Sam, Kat, and Andrea.

They had left their bench now, Sam and Andrea talking about Lucas while Kat stood by, watching Dean. It had become ingrained into her by now; make sure Dean is okay and never not okay. It was ingrained in _him_ to know that by now, and he gave her an attempt at a reassuring smile as he came over.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me." Andrea stood with crossed arms, looking up at Sam. "Not since..." She glanced at Dean after noticing him approach. "His dad's accident."

"Yeah, we heard about that. Sorry." Dean nodded and so did she.

Sam looked at Dean, then back at Andrea. "What are the doctors saying?"

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress."

"It can't be easy. For either of you."

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot." Andrea looked past them at Lucas. "It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."

"Kids are strong," Dean said. "You'd be surprised at what they can deal with."

"You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth." Andrea grinned widely for just a moment. "Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish..." She trailed off when Lucas came over, carrying some of his drawings. "Hey, sweetie."

Without a word, he handed the pictures to Dean. One was a house. The other was, for some odd reason, the motel they were staying at. "Thanks. Thanks, Lucas." He didn't say 'you're welcome' or 'no problem', of course, just walked back to the bench he'd been drawing on.

"He's talented..." Kat looked over the pictures.

"He must like you." Andrea smiled at Dean. "He's never given out his drawings like that before."

"Yeah...I guess so..." Dean folded the pictures up, slipping them into his jacket. "Anyway, we should get going. Thanks for letting me talk to him."

Andrea nodded. "No problem. It seems like you got through to him somewhere."

He didn't even try to hit on her again, just smiled slightly and walked past her, in the direction of their motel. Sam and Kat said their goodbyes and followed him, waiting until they were a good distance away before Sam asked, "Did you get anything?"

"Nothing."

* * *

An uneventful night of dinner and sleeping lead to an uneventful morning. Sam had gone out to get breakfast, Dean was in their motel room doing probably less-than-savory things, and Kat was in the bathroom of her own motel room, washing her face.

Sure, she was a hunter, but that didn't mean she couldn't take care of herself. It wasn't like she had some eighty-product beauty regimen anyway; water and soap were enough to hold her together, it seemed. It helped her to wake up in the morning, too.

She was bent almost painfully over a sink that seemed to be meant for children, splashing water on her soap-covered face. The little process was cleansing, and invigorating, and even a bit relaxing. She needed some relaxation.

She had dreamt about her father the night before. She hadn't had dreams about her family in years, but her father's hometown seemed to bring it out of her, and it hurt like hell. _It isn't something you just get over_. She almost thought she had sometimes. It always turned out to be there, though, way deep down. Even if it didn't always hurt, it was always there. Enough exposure and it came back up to the surface like she was still fifteen.

She didn't have _time_ for this.

She had to help other people, with newer pain. She had to keep anyone else from dying in this little town, if she could.

Her face felt free of suds, so she opened her eyes, jumping back instincitvely when she noticed the water coming out of the faucet was now brown. "— _gross_." She was a woman who had walked through blood and guts more than once, yet the sudden, mysterious change of water skeeved her out more than that ever could. It had been on her _face_ and only God knew what the hell could have possibly been making it brown. None of the possibilities that came to mind were particularly nice.

She quickly shut the faucet off. It was too late, the sink was already full to the top with murky, brown water, and it didn't seem to be draining. Of course. She could have left it, gone to the front desk, gotten another room, left them to clean it up; but that would be unnecessary. She could handle a clogged sink. She just had to remind herself of all those blood and guts, and how much worse that was compared to dirty water and whatever was clogging up the drain. Showers existed for a reason anyway.

Although, she would definitely be using Sam and Dean's instead of hers.

She pushed her sleeve up and, with a slight grimace, slipped her hand into the water, feeling around for the drain. She hadn't put the stopper down and it wasn't down now, so it was definitely a problem with the pipes. Could she even reach it? Did she even _want_ to?

She was both relieved and disappointed when she found that she couldn't fix the sink by hand. She started to pull her arm from the water, looking real forward to stealing Sam and Dean's shower for a good half hour, when something gripped her wrist and yanked her down, making her slam into the edge of the counter. That hurt her ribs like a bitch, but her mind was too busy being on high alert because _something was pulling her into the sink_.

"Shit! Oh, shit—" She tried to pull away. The grip on her wrist was steady, barely letting her budge and just yanking her back down if she even managed an inch. It kept pulling her down, down, down, and _impossibly_ down, until the ends of her hair touched the water and she felt a foreboding tug. " _Shit_! Dea—" was all she managed to get out before her head was yanked into the water.

Her arm was freed and she immediately pulled it out, feeling it slip again and again on the counter as she switched to fight mode, using her upper arm strength on either side of the sink to try and push herself out. It was useless. There was pressure on her face, tugging her down, keeping her just under the water enough to prevent her from catching her breath.

She opened her eyes despite all of her instincts telling her it wasn't a good idea in the filthy water. It wasn't a good idea either way, as she saw _nothing_. She wasn't sure what she had expected. A sudden deep abyss that had opened in the sink, full of creatures that were pulling her down? That was ridiculous even in their line of work.

Her chest was starting to burn. She felt like an idiot. She was too busy calling for Dean to get a good breath in, which was likely to cause her demise. She had maybe thirty seconds before she wouldn't be able to hold her breath any longer. Then she would drown.

In a sink.

In a tiny motel sink.

It wasn't even deep. It was about as shallow as any sink you'd find in a cheap motel or a 1970's bathroom. She was going to die, in a sink, held down by some invisible force. She always thought her time would be a little more intense...like being eaten by a wendigo or something.

 _"Come play with me."_

The words came from such a tiny voice, so far away. It was a tempting offer. But then there were two other voices, deeper, even farther away. Maybe it was her dad and her brother, waiting for her somewhere, arms opening for her.

Why didn't that tempt her as much? To see her family again? That was something she longed for deep down, right? _Right_?

Her arms felt so heavy and her mind was blurring, and all she could think of was Dean, and Sam, and even John. She didn't want to leave them, even for her family. Even if she missed her dad a little more in this town, the past was in the past. Her family was gone. But the Winchesters? They were there. They needed her. She couldn't leave them, and miss them, and hurt them. Did she have a choice?

She felt hands on her body, which was weird. She had never really come so close to death before, though, so maybe it was just part of it.

 _"Kat!"_

 _"Kat, damn it!"_

The water was suddenly gone and her body took over for her weakened mind as she immediately gasped for air. She felt a chest at her back and arms tight around her waist, pulling her from the sink, stumbling to the floor with her between their legs.

"I've got you. I've got you..."

" _Dean_ ," she gasped out, relaxing in his hold. She was alive, and safe, and with Dean. She blinked and look ahead to see Sam surveying the water in the sink cautiously, keeping a safe distance from it. She felt herself being shifted and then she was sitting back against something cool, Dean crouching in front of her.

"Hey. Hey," He grabbed her face to get her to look at him. "You okay?"

Her senses were starting to come back to her, letting her mind clear, and she nodded. "I'm alright, but...what was that? I couldn't get out. It was like something was holding me down, but...there was nothing."

"Tell me about it. It took me and Sammy to get you out of there." The worry was clear in Dean's eyes, but he didn't let it go any farther.

"You said your dad was from here, right?"

Kat looked up at Sam, who had come closer and was staring right at her. If there wasn't any time for pain before, there _definitely_ wasn't any now. "Yeah...why?"

"Did he know Bill Carlton?"

"I...honestly don't know, Sam. He didn't talk about it much." She started to stand, smiling at the way Dean's hands hovered near her in case she fell. She managed to stand just fine now that she had her wits about her. "Isn't he that girl's father? What does he have to do with this?"

Sam and Dean shared a look, which never meant anything good. "Will Carlton drowned last night." Sam glanced back at the sink. It was still full, like it was waiting for Kat to come back so it could pull her in again. "In his sink. And I found out that Lucas' dad was Bill's godson. He's our connection."

"Yeah, you're lucky we came to tell you, or Will wouldn't be the latest victim."

"Thanks for that." Kat sighed, looking at Sam. "It makes no sense. Even if my dad did know Bill, I never did, so why would whatever this thing is come after me?"

"We just gotta find out, don't we?" Dean walked to the door. "We're gonna pay Bill a little visit."

* * *

Neither of the boys would let her shower in their room and, knowing that this thing might be targeting her now, Kat wasn't keen on the idea anyway. Dean had, at least, given her a wet washcloth and a bar of soap, which allowed her to clean some of the filth off of her arm, face, and hair. She was willing to sacrifice showers until they left the town if it meant...well, if it meant that she got to continue living.

They drove to the Carlton's house and Dean gave her stern instructions not to go into the water. It would have been funny if the prospect of just being near the water didn't terrify her so much.

So when they walked along the dock to will Bill Carlton sat on a bench, she didn't mind much that Dean and Sam had her walk between them.

She felt bad for more than herself when she saw how Bill was. On that bench like when they'd come for questions before, looking even more lost and sad than before. How could he not be? He lost both his children. She decided, as she saw him, that even if this was all connected to him, it wasn't on purpose. No man could look so devastated over people he hurt on purpose.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam started softly. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

Dean followed Sam's lead this time, folding his hands. "We're from the Department of—"

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

"—your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?" Sam's question didn't receive an answer. "Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—we think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are _gone_ ," Bill said shakily, tears in his eyes, before he looked up at them. "It's worse than dying. Go away." He shook his head, turning to stare back at the lake. "Please."

Kat could practically feel his anguish. God, it was hell. "Let's just go." She gave Sam's sleeve a slight tug and he nodded, as the three quietly left the dock, going back to the Impala.

"What do you think?" Sam asked when they were out of earshot.

"I think the poor guy's been through hell." Dean shrugged, stopping on one side of the car while Sam stopped on the other side. "I also think he's not telling us something."

Sam leaned on the roof of the Impala. "So now what?" There was a pause as Dean stared at the Carlton's house. "What is it?"

"Huh. Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something." He reached into his jacket, pulling out the pictures Lucas had drawn and unfolding them. There was no doubt, it was a drawing of the Carlton's house. He paused again, lifting it to look at the picture of their motel, then looking at Kat who stood by him. "He knew about Will _and_ you. I think he was trying to tell us with these pictures."

Kat slowly looked at the drawing, staring at it. The enormity of the situation hadn't hit her fully yet, but this certainly helped it to sink in. Whatever was in the lake was after her, too, and she had no idea _why_.

* * *

"—I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea."

Andrea couldn't be blamed. Three people that weren't even acquaintances coming into her home, one of them asking to speak to her son about _drownings_. No mother would have felt at ease with that, and it would be worrisome if one did.

"I _just_ need to talk to him." Dean was almost pleading, knowing that Lucas could be their only hope for more information. "Just for a few minutes."

"He won't say anything." Andrea snapped. "What good's it gonna do?"

" _Andrea_ , we think more people might get hurt." Sam gave a subtle glance at Kat before looking back at Andrea. "We think something's happening out there."

"My husband, the others, they just _drowned_. That's all." Andrea's voice shook, maybe because of emotion. Maybe because she didn't believe her own words.

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a _possibility_ that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son."

She just stared at Dean for a long moment, then gave in with a shake of her head. "Fine. I don't think it's gonna do any good, but if you think you can stop this...then okay. But just for a few minutes." She repeated the words back to him, giving him a look that showed she meant it.

"That's all I need. I swear."

She nodded, leading the three of them down a hallway, to Lucas' bedroom. As per usual, he was coloring away, sitting on the floor surrounded by paper and crayons.

"Hey, Lucas." Dean stepped into the room and crouched down in front of him. "You remember me?" He looked down at a pile of drawings, looking through them like before to find more pictures of red bicycles. "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the things is, I need your help again." He took the drawings out of his jacket again, unfolding them and setting them down. "How did you know to draw these? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could...nod 'yes' or 'no' for me."

Lucas gave no indication that he even heard Dean, and the realization as to why he was so silent hit him, "You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom...and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talkin', just like you."

As he spoke, Sam looked at him with surprise and Kat looked at him with sorrow. His pain was always difficult. One thing she had always believed was that he was a good man who deserved a hell of a lot more than he'd ever gotten.

"But see, my mom...I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too."

Lucas suddenly dropped the crayon he was holding and looked straight up at Dean. He picked up the picture he had been drawing and handed it to him; it was a church, and a house, and a little boy with a red bicycle.

"Thanks, Lucas." Dean stood as the boy went right back to drawing.

* * *

Kat sat in the back of the Impala, watching trees fly by. Everything was dawning on her little by little; she was in danger. All she had to do was get too close to a source of lake water and she was pretty much a goner. She noticed that it didn't scare her nearly as much as Dean being taken by that wendigo, but it still scared her enough.

She had learned long ago that she couldn't be afraid. So why was she? Why couldn't she control it after all she had seen and been through? The best she could do was put on a brave face for people who needed it, but that didn't mean she wasn't afraid. It just meant that she knew how to act. But so did Dean, she figured. So did Sam. Maybe even John spent most of his time acting.

Like pain, fear doesn't just go away. It gets buried somewhere until something is so terrible that it has to come out.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died."

She looked to the front seat as Dean spoke. She could distract herself with his words and his voice. He was someone she knew she would be safe with. Sam, too. As much as she protected them, they protected her right back. None of them would ever let anything bad happen to the others.

"There are cases," Sam sighed. "going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies."

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean's idea was met with doubt from Sam, but he carried on, "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please." He looked at Kat in the rearview mirror and Sam did the same. She could drown.

"—alright, we got another house to find."

"The only problem is, there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone."

Kat leaned forward, looking at the drawing that Sam had in his lap. "What about the church?"

"See this church?" They spoke at the same time and quickly looked at each other, then away, and Sam continued, "I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart," Dean mocked, making Sam laugh slightly. "And what's your excuse, Kat?"

"Women just naturally know everything." At least she still had her humor, despite everything.

A beat of silence passed and Sam looked at Dean, "You know, um...what you said about Mom...you never told me that before."

"It's no big deal." Dean's suddenly tense posture said otherwise. He glanced over to see Sam still staring at him. "Oh, God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we? Kat hugs me enough as it is. I don't need my _brother_ hanging all over me."

"You hardly complain when I hug you."

"Alright, alright. Enough." His voice was gruffer than usual, which was how it usually got when he was getting flustered by something. "Just keep an eye out for the church. Both of you."

They rode in mostly comfortable silence — though Kat's fear was still causing a bit of inner turmoil — for ten or fifteen minutes before Sam spotted a church. "I think that's it, right over there. Pull over."

Dean obliged, parking on the street and taking the drawing from Sam as the three of them got out of the car. He held the picture up, looking at the church and then a yellow house just across the street from it. "Bingo. Let's go."

They crossed the street to the house and Dean knocked on the door, fishing around his jacket for his fake ID. A couple moments passed before an elderly woman opened the door, looking at them in confusion. "Agent Ford. That's Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher." He flashed the ID quickly. "We wanted to ask you a couple questions."

"Oh...of course, agents." She stepped aside to let them in, shutting the door behind them and walking further into the house. "What did you need?"

"We're sorry to bother you, ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."

The woman looked down, shaking her head. "No, sir. Not for a very long time. Not since my son..."

"Can you tell us about your son?" Sam asked gently, his eyes full of sympathy.

She nodded, leading them to a bedroom that was set up like a little boy still actually lived there. "Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now." She turned to look at a picture of a little boy that was on an end table. "The police never— _I_ never had any idea what happened." She turned back to face them. "He just disappeared. Losing him, you know...it's..."

Sam noticed a set of army men much like Lucas', nudging Kat and catching Dean's gaze, before gesturing to them silently.

"It's worse than _dying_." The woman was starting to become overcome with emotion, on the verge of tears.

"Did he disappear from here?" Dean swallowed. "I mean, from the house."

"He was supposed to ride his bike... _straight home_ after school, and he never showed up." A moment passed and tears began to fall down her cheeks. "Excuse me..." She offered the best smile she could and made her way out of the room.

Kat watched her go, frowning slightly. "Poor lady. I wish we could find Peter."

"He could be hanging around somewhere." Dean shrugged, walking over to a mirror and plucking a picture of two little boys off of it. He turned it over. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen-seventy."

"There's another clue that points to Bill." Sam sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Kat looked around the room, at all the various toys Peter had once played with. The little army men, some classic matchbox cars placed here and there, an original G.I. Joe stuck up on a shelf, and even a twisted up slinky forgotten on a shelf below it. Her gaze fell on a framed picture beside the slinky and she felt her breath catch in her throat, her feet practically moving of their own accord towards it.

She picked up the frame and ran her fingers over the face of one of the little boys in it; a face she knew all too well. It was a face she had seen in pictures just as old as the one she held, pictures that had been forgotten in Missouri in John Winchester's haste to get her away from the scene that would be considered a crime. It was a face that had aged and gained lines, but still looked basically the same every year. Hazel eyes, like hers. Light hair, not like hers. She had gotten her mother's hair.

"Kat? You find another picture of Peter and Bill?" It was Dean's voice, but she couldn't even look up. She just stared at the picture. "—Kat?" He and Sam moved up behind her to get a look at the picture. "Yeah, that's Peter alright, but I don't know who the other kid is. It's not Bill."

"—it's my dad."

* * *

 **A/N: Dun, dun, dun. Pretty sure you all saw it coming, though ;) The usual apology for any typos or grammatical errors, they are never on purpose, just mistakes when I'm writing while sleepy lol. If anything was confusing, don't worry! All will be explained in the next chapter, which should hopefully be up quicker than this one was. Review, please!**


	7. Dead in the Water: Part Two

**A/N: Thanks for the love, guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

Kat had asked Peter's mother if she could take the picture; she vaguely explained her father and how she had no pictures of him, and the older woman was incredibly sweet and understanding, telling her that she knew that pain. That she was glad that, at the very least, she still had pictures. She said she had plenty and was all too gracious in allowing Kat to take the one with her father in it.

And there she was, sitting in the back of the Impala, her eyes glued to the picture even when the car would hit a bump and make her arm jostle. She just kept holding it out, refocusing on her father's young face.

There was no fondness now. No recalling sweet memories of her father or the few stories he told her of his childhood. There was only fear and confusion now.

She wasn't scared of ghosts, or wendigos, or losing Dean, or even drowning. She was scared of what this all meant.

Because she already knew and yet, at the same time, didn't understand. Because her father's stories of his childhood had been so few. Because Peter was dead and both Bill and her father had known him. Because Bill's children were gone now and whatever was in the lake — Peter or otherwise — had tried to drown her, too.

Her father had been someone she looked up to her whole life. She missed him and held him in such high regard, even if her heart had mostly healed through the years. What if he was less than she thought? What if there were dark things she had never known about him?

"Bill sure as hell seems like he's hiding something, huh?"

"And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished."

She looked to the boys as they discussed in the front seat. There had been a good twenty minutes of concerned looks and gentle questions before they had given up and moved on to figuring everything out.

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?"

"What if Bill _killed_ him?"

"Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible."

"What if my dad killed him?" Kat asked the question quietly, her tone making it sound almost rhetorical. Maybe it was. She already knew, even if she didn't want to know. She could tell by a look shared between brothers that they had already considered the same thing.

"Look, Kat, we don't know what we're dealing with." Sam looked back at her. "It's just a theory right now."

"The only theory. It's not fair. I healed, I got better, I moved past this years ago. And now this has to happen? My dad might have—"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Kat." Dean's tone was full of concerned warning. He glanced back at her, then quickly returned his eyes to the road. "Don't lose it on me. This ain't you." Except it was her. Just not _this_ her. The Kat that was seeping out now was the same Kat that had come to them after losing her family.

She was losing them again. Losing what she knew of them.

It was freaking her out. And she had been doing so well; all these years, being afraid, but never letting it break her down. Switching to that necessary 'beast mode' instead of sobbing in a corner somewhere.

But this was her family. She might as well have been fifteen again, just lost, and afraid, and utterly confused.

"We'll figure this out, okay?" Sam did his best to speak in a low, comforting tone. He had always been good at that, providing an all-encompassing comfort. "We'll talk to Bill and find out what's going on. It could just be that your dad knew Bill, and Peter can't get to him, so he's going after you."

That was rational. Kat could be rational. _Scared_ and rational, but still rational.

"—yeah. Maybe you're right." She looked at the picture again and folded it up, putting it in her pocket. Maybe there was no need to freak out and she was just reverting because this was her family. She had to focus on the task at hand, once more, no matter what. People were hurting.

"Good." Dean sighed, pulling the car up to the Carlton's house.

Sam was the first one out of the car, jogging up the stairs and knocking on the door. "Mr. Carlton? It's Agent...Hamill. We really need to ask some questions." He knocked on the door again, waiting a moment, and holding his hand out to stop Dean and Kat when they had gotten out of the car. "Mr. Carlton?" He moved to a window, peeking inside. "—he's not in there."

"Well, where the hell is he?"

Sam moved down off the porch, looking around. "Mr. Carlton!"

"Maybe he's sitting on the dock again." Kat turned to look at the dock on the lake, but the bench was empty. It was then she heard some sort of...rumbling. Like a boat engine. Sure enough, a little boat soon came into view, gliding through the water. And driving it was one Bill Carlton. "—guys."

The brothers turned to look and there was a moment's pause, before all three of them were running to the water. They ran onto the dock, as far as they could go without swimming, none of them concerned about Kat being so close. "Mr. Carlton!" Dean was yelling as loudly as he could when they reached the very end of the dock. "You need to come back! Come out of the water!" He gestured to where they stood, in case Bill couldn't hear them. "Turn the boat around!"

"Mr. Carlton!"

"Mr. Carlton, _please_!" Kat was concerned, of course, as she hoped she would always be when it came to human lives. But she was being selfish, too. She needed answers. Without Bill, would there be any?

He just looked back at them, like he knew what he was doing. He probably did. He turned his gaze away, continuing to drive that boat, until something in the water sent his boat flying into the air. The three hunters on the dock flinched. The boat flipped over and fell back into the water, disappearing into it with Bill.

"No!" Still partly concerned and partly selfish — and, apparently, stupid — Kat moved to step right off the dock and into the water. She wasn't a good swimmer, but maybe she would have adrenaline like when they jumped off the bridge back in California. If she could just _get to him_ in time, she could drag him out of the water before he was gone.

"Whoa!" Sam grabbed her upper arms before she could slip off the dock, quickly pulling her back from the water. "He's gone, Kat. It's too late."

"Are you fucking crazy?" Dean gave her a look. "You get in that water, you're probably not coming back."

She looked at him, brow furrowed. "But if this was all connected to Bill, wouldn't it end with him?"

"We don't know if it _was_ , Kat." Sam said softly, releasing her once he was sure she wouldn't be diving in. He was pretty sure Dean would throw her over his shoulder before that could happen. "Come on, we should call the police." He walked back to the shore, taking his phone out as he did.

Kat looked back out to the water. It was so calm, like a boat and a man hadn't been dragged into its depths to never be seen again.

"You gonna lose it on me, Kit Kat?"

"—I don't know." She turned to look at Dean, who nodded towards the shore, and she followed him back to it. "I'm scared, Dean."

"Of drowning?"

"No. I mean, I think I can avoid that if I don't go near any water. And now I know you and Sam will stop me from walking into lakes." She glanced back at the end of the dock that she'd almost stepped off of. She hadn't really thought that one through. "I'm scared that my dad's not who I thought he was."

"—we'll figure it out. Like Sammy said." It was the best he could offer without getting a bit too 'chick flick', but it was a lot coming from him.

"Okay, the police are on their way." Sam moved to them, snapping his phone shut. "You know, now we have to find another lead."

"Maybe another drowning will kick the sheriff's ass into gear and he'll finally _do something_ about it instead of just brushing it off." Dean's tone was laced with frustration. He didn't like losing people any more than Kat or Sam did. It was possible that he hated it even more than they did, somehow. Saving people was his duty in his mind.

"Maybe."

Being the small town it was, the police arrived in a mere few minutes, Jake Devin leading and getting out of his car. The way he looked at Dean, Sam, and Kat didn't bode well for them. He didn't go to them at first, however, instead instructing officers and whatnot to scan the area, and write a report, and all sorts of other things. Sam had gone over to him at one point and explained what happened, and all the sheriff did was nod, so the younger Winchester retreated back to Dean and Kat. When he did finally come up to the hunters, which was after some curious neighbor had walked over and said something to him, it was pretty simple. He told them to follow him, Sam glared at Dean before he could make any remarks, and the three piled into the Impala to follow him to the police station.

"Are we about to be arrested?" Kat whispered as she got out of the car and moved close to Dean.

"Hell if I know. Not like it's anything new." He grinned. Both Kat and Sam rolled their eyes, the latter stepping over to join them as they walked into the station with Jake.

"Sam, Dean, Kat." Andrea was there with Lucas, setting down some take out food and standing up. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first name basis." Jake didn't sound entirely thrilled. He opened the door that lead behind the front desk, stopping to talk to his daughter. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner..." She gestured to the food she had set down.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't really have the time." Jake sighed, taking off his jacket.

Andrea stared at her father, then looked at the three hunters behind them, and back to him again. "I heard about Bill Carlton." She crossed her arms. "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now, we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."

Lucas had been rocking back and forth in a chair, but the mention of going home had him jumping out of his seat with a whimper, grabbing onto Dean's arm and trying to pull him away from Sam and Kat.

"Lucas! Hey!" Dean grabbed onto the kid to try and calm him. "What is it?"

"Lucas." Andrea ran over to pull him away.

"Lucas! Lucas, it's okay, it's okay. Hey." Dean bent down, making eye contact. "Lucas, it's okay. It's okay."

Though his mother managed to pull him away, Lucas still looked distraught as he was lead out of the station. Those left in the room all watched in concern, none more concerned than Dean and Kat. He had predicted horrible things, yes, but he had never seemed so terrified before. What could he possibly know this time?

Jake sighed, tossing his jacket down and walking into his office. Sam followed first, then Kat turned to watch them go and gave Dean's sleeve a tug, both of them slowly going to the office.

"Sit. _Please_." It definitely wasn't a question. Sam and Dean took the chairs with Kat standing between them again, while Jake sat on his desk. He stared at them for a long moment before saying, "Okay, just so I'm clear, you see... _something_ attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?"

Dean looked at Sam. He had been the one to explain it, after all. "Yeah. That about sums it up."

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? _And_ you're not really Wildlife Service?" Well, that explained why he seemed so off-put by them. They just stared at him, a bit surprised. "That's right. I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

"See, now, we can explain that—"

"Enough." Jake hissed, interrupting Dean easily. "Please. The only reason you're breathing _free_ air is because one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here." He made sure to look at all three of them, individually, nodding. "I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. _Or_ , we can chalk this all up to a bad day." His voice was darkening as he looked at Sam, staring at him. "You get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"—door number two sounds good."

Kat quickly nodded in agreement with Sam. "Yeah, we'll take that one."

"That's the one _I'd_ pick." Jake stood up. "Now, get out of my sight before I change my mind."

They didn't need to be told twice. The thought of being witnesses — and, more than likely, being charged with murder since no one in this town could understand what was really going on with the lake — was enough to have them up and out of the station, going back out to the car.

It was late in the day, the sun already halfway set and making the world a little more orange, as they got in the Impala and headed out of town.

But two in the car didn't feel right.

Dean couldn't stop thinking about how scared Lucas was, and Kat couldn't stop thinking about her father again.

It didn't feel over. How could it be? She wondered if her attempted drowning really had just been because Bill knew her father. That didn't seem right. There was something more to this and leaving the town felt _so wrong_. She could tell by Dean's silence that he felt the same way, and when an hour or so of driving had passed and Dean was sitting there at a green light, she _knew_ he felt the same way.

"Green." Sam said, sounding annoyed.

"What?"

"Light's _green_."

Dean stayed there for a moment, before pushing down on the gas and turning right. And while it was _right_ , it was _wrong_.

"Uh, interstate's the other way."

"I know."

"Are we going back?" Kat immediately leaned forward in her seat, managing a smile when Dean nodded. "Good."

"Are...are you guys kidding me?" Sam looked between them. "If we go back there, we're going to get arrested!"

Dean only drove faster. "We gotta finish this hunt."

"But, Dean, this job, I think it's _over_."

"I'm not so sure."

"Neither am I. There has to be something more to this...there has to be a reason why Peter went after me."

Sam sighed. "Kat, it's because your dad knew Bill. That's all. And if Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"Alright, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done?" Dean looked at his brother. "You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"But why would you think that?"

"—because Lucas was really scared."

"That's what this is about?" Sam was almost smirking, curious.

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."

"Who _are_ you? And what have you done with my brother?"

"—shut up."

Kat almost smiled, but couldn't. She loved glimpses of Dean's sweeter side and wished the situation had been better so she could enjoy it. Her thoughts were too preoccupied with her dad and Lucas. Lucas really had been scared.

The long drive, shortened by Dean's speeding, still felt long because of the unknown that loomed ahead of them. They pulled up to Andrea's house eventually and Dean wasted no time in getting out of the car.

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked once they got to the door. "It's pretty late, man."

Dean said nothing, ringing the doorbell. The moment he did, the door was flung open and there was Lucas, practically hyperventilating from fear. "Lucas?" Dean grabbed him, bending down to look at him. The kid took off running. "Lucas!" He was right behind him, with Sam and Kat following suit. They ran up stairs that water was pouring down, to a door that was the source of the copious amounts of water. Dean grabbed Lucas away from the door and shoved him towards Kat, who quickly wrapped her arms around him to keep him safe, watching as Dean kicked the door in.

The moment he did, Lucas immediately struggled, so Dean took him from Kat and held him tightly. Sam ran into the bathroom, reaching into the tub and feeling around until he grabbed Andrea. He used every ounce of strength he had, pulling and pulling until he managed to pull her above the surface of the water; the spirit tried to pull her back down, but Sam wasn't giving up. He held to her tirelessly until he finally released the spirit's hold, tumbling onto the floor with Andrea on top of him, who was coughing and gasping for air.

Once she had her wits about her, she immediately moved off of Sam, pulling her knees to her chest to cover herself.

"Here." Kat quickly moved into the bathroom, stepping through the water carefully as she grabbed a towel. Andrea didn't take it when she held it out, most likely in some sort of shock, so she gently wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'm going to get you some clothes, okay?"

"Lucas." Andrea grabbed Kat's wrist tightly when she moved to leave. "Is Lucas okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. He's perfect." Kat loosened the grip on her wrist, stepping aside so Dean could be seen with a much more relaxed Lucas. "Dean has him. See?"

"Oh, thank God..."

Kat gave her a reassuring smile, heading out of the room as Sam now stood by to keep an eye on Andrea, and Dean stayed with Lucas.

* * *

The night was long and silent. Lucas had gone to bed once he knew his mother was alright, Andrea dried off and changed into some comfortable clothes Kat had gotten for her, and Dean spent his time looking around for any sort of clues. Now Sam and Kat sat at a table with Andrea, as they had most of the night, gently questioning her even though she seemed unable to answer so far.

"Can you tell us?"

"No. It doesn't make any sense," she finally said, looking at Sam and beginning to cry. "I'm going crazy." She dropped her head into her hands.

"No. You're not." Sam shook his head. "Tell us what happened. Everything."

Andrea lifted her head, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice."

"What did it say?"

"It said...it said, 'come play with me'." She breathed shakily. "What's _happening_?"

Kat stared. _Come play with me_ had been exactly what she heard when she was being drowned in the sink. "Hey, Andrea...I understand. It happened to me, too. Well, what this is...it tried to drown me in a motel sink. And it said 'come play with me'." She got a look from Sam, and realized she had forgotten to mention it before. "You're definitely not crazy."

Dean suddenly came in, placing an open scrapbook on the table in front of Andrea. There were pictures of little boys, who looked to be scouts of some sort. "Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"

"What? Um...no...I mean, except that's my dad right there." She pointed to one of the pictures. "He must have been about twelve in these pictures."

Kat slowly stood up, moving next to Dean to get a closer look at the pictures. There was Peter, of course, and then a young Jake, and then two boys with light hair. One was Bill and the other was her father. It was unmistakable.

"Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff."

"Bill _and_ the sheriff—they were both involved with Peter."

She wished Dean and Sam hadn't said that. Because if Jake's family was being targeted, and Bill's family had been targeted, _and_ she had been targeted...it really meant her father had done something wrong. "It involves my dad, too." She whispered. "It really does."

Sam and Dean shared a look of veiled concern.

"What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?"

Lucas stood by the window now, staring out. Dean, who was the first to notice, looked over at him. "Lucas?" His worried call made the other three adults turn to look. "Lucas, what is it?" He went unanswered, as per usual, as Lucas simply went to the door, opened it, and walked out.

"Lucas!" Andrea was on her feet in an instant, running out the door with three hunters right behind her. "Lucas, honey?"

He continued walking away from the house, passing through trees until he came to a soft spot of ground, stopping and staring. Once they caught up to him, he simply looked up at Dean, telling him wordlessly that there was something there.

"—you and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean's tone of voice was enough to have Andrea not even questioning him before grabbing Lucas' arm and taking him back to the house. "There's two shovels in the trunk." Dean fished his keys out of his jacket pocket, tossing them to Sam. "Go get 'em."

Sam nodded, jogging off to the Impala.

Kat moved to where Lucas had been standing, gently pushing against the plant life and dirt with the toe of her boot. "—do you think it's Peter?" They had dug up dead bodies before to take care of ghosts, but never a child's.

"I don't know, Kat. Hopefully...then we can end this for good." Dean looked up at her, then to the side as Sam hurried back and gave him a shovel. "But if Lucas is any indication...it's something bad." With that, he and Sam pushed the shovels into the ground and started digging.

They only had to scoop up dirt a couple of times before Sam's shovel hit something metal with a _clink_. Kat was on her knees in an instant and there was soon a flurry of six hands as they all dug furiously. The dirt held answers. Sam soon grabbed onto a handle and, with Dean and Kat's help, yanked a bike into the open air.

"Peter's bike."

" _Who_ are you?" The question was followed by the click of a gun. Kat looked up while Dean and Sam turned around, all three of them dropping the bike when they saw Jake standing there.

"Put the gun down, Jake."

He ignored Sam, keeping the gun aimed at them. "How did you know that was there?"

"What happened?" Dean had started out sounding smug, to let him know that they _knew_ and there was no way out of this. Kat spoke before he could continue.

"You, and Bill, and Michael killed Peter, didn't you? You, and Bill Carlton, and Michael Jenkins," her voice broke, just slightly. Her emotions were getting the best of her, it didn't matter how many times she shoved them down and tried to focus on the people of Lake Manitoc. "You drowned him and buried his bike."

Dean interrupted her just as she did to him. Any idiot in the world could tell that she was a few words and epiphanies away from breaking. "You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried." How right he was. Nothing did. Not the truth, not bikes, not the feelings that people tried so hard to bury over and over again.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." His stiff demeanor said otherwise.

"You, Bill, and...and Michael, killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell we're talking about."

"Dad!" Andrea ran over, obviously terrified by her father's actions. He barely gave her a glance.

"And now you've got one seriously pissed off spirit."

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love." Sam spoke calmly, probably for fear of that gun Jake still held. "It's gonna drown them, and it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel he same pain Peter's mom felt. And, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does."

"Yeah? And how do you know that?"

"Because that's _exactly_ what it did to Bill Carlton."

"And that's what it's doing to my father." Suddenly, the pieces came together and Kat was sure she finally understood. "He can't get to my father, so he's coming after me. Because _you're_ still here, and he wants to take out anything remotely related to you. He has no idea you don't know me."

"Think you can deal with that, sheriff?" Dean smirked, but there was something like fury in his eyes. "Knowing you caused the death of an innocent girl?"

"—listen to yourselves, all of you. You're _insane_."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere, tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake."

Jake said nothing. Andrea looked at him in horror. "Dad, is any of this true?"

"No, don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to _drown_ me, Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me!" Andrea's request was followed after a moment's hesitation. "Tell me you...you didn't kill anyone." The way he averted his gaze and struggled to find words said more than he ever could. "—oh my God."

"Billy, Mike, and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one, we always bullied him...but this time...it got rough." Jake swallowed. "We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to, but we held him under too long, and he drowned." He slowly turned to look at Sam, Dean, and Kat. "We let the body go. And it sank."

As he finished the story, Kat stepped back, a hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes before she could stop them. Everything she already knew, officially confirmed. Her father had been someone she looked up to. He had been so strong, and brave, and loving, and wonderful. He was the main reason she had never looked up to John as a father figure — among a few others — because he had been so _perfect_ she hadn't needed another father even with him gone. Most kids thought their parents were perfect, and all of them were wrong, but to be _this_ wrong? Her father had been young, sure, but he had kept it from her all those years. Would he have told her if he were around now that she was older? Or would he have kept on how he was, avoiding most mentions of his childhood because of that fateful day he'd _killed_ someone? She would never know. Her father could have lied to her all their lives and not even cared.

"Oh, Andrea, we were kids." Just the tone of Jake's voice was begging his daughter for any forgiveness she could give. "We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with _Chris_ , because of some ghost? It's not rational."

Perhaps Jake's words that Kat couldn't help but overhear should have helped. Her dad was young and scared, just a mistake he made. But he wasn't there, saying that, to her. Who's to even say he would want forgiveness? Who was to say there wasn't more she didn't know about him?

Dean was staring at her, looking on the edge of panic. It was that girl, from those couple months starting out with them, who was so scared. She had blossomed into a source of calm for him, a comfort that stuck around even though he was a closed-off dick. The one constant who didn't walk out on him. And she was slipping away. "Alright, listen to me," he said firmly, turning to address Jake and Andrea. "All of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now."

Andrea suddenly spotted something and let out a gasp that was enough to even break Kat out of her thoughts, the whole group looking over to see Lucas at the lake.

"Lucas!" Jake was running first, clearly believing them more than he let on. Sam and Dean were right behind him. Kat had to force herself to step out of her pity party for a minute, quite literally, as she and Andrea ran after them.

"Lucas!" Dean ran faster than he probably ever had, racing for the dock where Lucas was reaching over the water for an army man.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!"

It didn't matter, really. A hand reached right up out of the water and yanked Lucas in anyway, pulling him below the surface as everyone reached the lake. Jake stopped short, while the rest ran to the dock, Sam and Dean diving right off the end.

"Oh my God!" Andrea was quick to take off her jacket, preparing to jump in, but Sam turned to look at her.

"Andrea, stay there!" He gave Kat a look when she look ready to get in. "Kat, don't!"

"But, Sam..."

"No! Lucas!"

"We'll get him! Just stay on the dock! Both of you!" He swam further out, before diving onto the water.

Kat could do nothing. Her pity party had been tossed aside by adrenaline that was going to go unused, because stepping foot into that water would just take care of her, too. She saw Andrea crouch down as the woman watched helplessly, so she did the only thing she could; she crouched down by her and wrapped an arm around her, offering whatever comfort she could in a situation like this.

Dean came up for air, followed a moment later by Sam, and he looked over at him. "Sam?"

Sam just shook his head.

"Oh, God!" Andrea sobbed, starting to lean into Kat heavily. "Lucas, where are you?"

The boys dived back under the water and a voice came from behind the girls, "Peter, if you can hear me...please, Peter, I'm sorry. I'm so—I'm so sorry!" Jake had stepped into the lake, wading through.

"Daddy, no!"

"Jake!" Kat was on her feet in an instant, moving to the side of the dock, but stopping. Was she being selfish if she didn't go in after him? Sam had told her not to come in. If she _did_ go in, there was little chance of her helping Jake and more of a chance that they would both drown. But how was she supposed to _let_ someone die? Even if Jake had done something wrong, she couldn't let someone go like that. "Jake, get out of the water!"

"Peter. Lucas...he's jus—he's just a little boy! Please, it's not his fault, it's mine! Please take me!"

Dean and Sam had come back up in time to see the man's sacrifice. "Jake, no!"

"Just let it be over!" Not even a moment passed, and something grabbed onto Jake and pulled him down into the depths of the water.

"Daddy!" Andrea screamed. "Daddy! No!"

Kat ran a hand through her hair, wanting nothing more than to dive into the lake and pull the man back up, and knowing she couldn't. That was always the worst. Knowing she couldn't do something.

A frustrated Dean, who hated not being able to save someone just as much, dived back under the water with Sam. It was the younger Winchester who came up first, shaking his head.

"No!"

Kat quickly moved back to Andrea, standing close to offer comfort and support, though she was watching worriedly.

There happened to be a miracle that day, as Dean broke through the surface with Lucas in his arms, gasping for air.

* * *

Kat stood by the back of the Impala, leaning against the door, her things already packed up and in the backseat. After all the events of the day, they made sure Andrea had a fake story, dealt with what they could, and got their things from the motel the next morning.

The adrenaline left eventually, as it usually does, and all she had now were her rather sour thoughts. The loss of Jake and the second loss, as she saw it, of her father.

She didn't know what to do. It wasn't like she could go track down her father and confront him over this, and maybe that made it hurt all the worse. She would never get an explanation, never know if her father lied about anything else. Now all her memories were sullied with the knowledge that he'd killed someone; that the man she looked up to all her life was as bad as the rest of them. It wasn't something she could just get over, especially with no closure. She was sure she would, someday, maybe, but couldn't imagine that day very clearly just yet. It was too new and too painful.

Sam and Dean came over to the car, the latter opening the driver's door as they both tossed bags in, before slamming it shut.

"—look," Sam said softly, knowing why his brother was angry. "we're not gonna save everybody."

"I know."

"Sam! Dean!" Andrea was walking over, Lucas beside her with a tray in his arms. The brothers were quick to meet them halfway. "We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas asked, making both Sam and Dean smile at the fact that he was finally speaking.

"Of course."

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." Dean took the tray, making a show like it was heavy because of the amount of sandwiches, walking over to the Impala. He opened the passenger side door, putting the tray in, before sitting down with a groan. "Alright," he started as Lucas came to stand at the open door. "if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it back to me one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!"

"That's right, up high." He lifted his hand for a high-five, which Lucas happily gave. They shared a smile. "Take care of your mom, okay?"

As he said that, Andrea and Sam walked over, and he immediately stood, eyes widening slightly when Andrea leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"—Sam, move your ass." Clearly embarrassed from the sweetness of a moment, he scratched the back of his head and walked around the car. "We're gonna run out of daylight before we...hit the road." His words had faltered slightly when he came to stop in front of Kat. She was looking off at the motel, but not really looking at it. "Hey." He snapped his fingers in her face.

"What?" She looked at him, then looked over when she heard a car door to see Sam had gotten in the car. They were leaving. Right. She met Andrea's eyes over the car, managing a nearly genuine smile. "Bye."

"Thank you, Kat. You helped more than you know."

That made her smile a little more real. "It's just what we do. Bye, Lucas!" And her smile even grew when she saw Lucas jumping up to try and see over the car. He was like a real kid now, free of the burdens he had before.

"Bye!"

She got into the car as Dean did, waving until the car drove off and Andrea and Lucas were out of sight. Unfortunately, once the kid's refreshing joy was gone, reality came back to her once again. It was annoying like that. Always waiting there, between the good moments.

"Hey."

She looked up to see Dean staring at her through the rearview mirror, glancing at the road every so often. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

"Then why did you ask?"

"'Cause you usually tell me the truth."

"Dean, I just—" Frustration was obvious in her voice. She was not one to get so easily frustrated, but the pain was too much. She tried to sound neutral anyway. Dean didn't deserve to be snapped at. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Please."

"—fine." Though he gave in, he kept glancing at her in the mirror every so often.

* * *

They were somewhere in Indiana when they stopped at a motel to rest up, planning to look for hunts in the morning. Kat took a blissful, _safe_ shower that helped to relax her just a little, and fully intended to find some comedy on TV and go to sleep. Maybe her dreams would be nice.

Her plans were interrupted by a knock on the door. She figured it was Dean, coming to press her for information, though it was a little unlike him. He'd listen to her, sure, but he didn't seek out conversations like that. There was the possibility that he was so used to her pushing him to open up that he decided to get revenge, which was only fair. Letting it out might have made her feel better, too.

"Come in, Dean."

To her surprise, the door opened up and in walked Sam. "Hey," he said quietly, shutting the door and shoving his hands into his pockets, looking at her.

"Hey..." She raised an eyebrow, more than a little confused at his presence. "You okay?"

"I should be asking you that." He watched her as she looked away, his eyes practically full of concern. "Dean's kind of freaking out. He's just been muttering about how you always open up to him even though he's a dick, and how frustrating you are." He smiled slightly. " _What_ did you do to him while I was gone?"

Kat's lips just barely twitched into a smile, but it was too difficult to manage.

"He's right, Kat. You always open up..." He slowly walked over to the bed, sitting down next to her. "I know I said we might not be like we were before, but I want to try. We used to tell each other everything."

She shook her head, almost laughing, though it was hardly because his words were funny. "I have been trying to get you to open up to me for weeks, Sam."

"—I know. And I've been..." He sighed deeply. "A complete jerk. Even when I'm being a jerk, you still try. I guess I...I owe it to you. To listen. I mean, I'm not gonna force you, but I want you to know that...I'm here." He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then reached out to touch her shoulder.

There it was. That all-encompassing comfort, just from a single touch. She had missed it _so much_. While she could open up to Dean and he would at least half-listen, nothing would ever beat how comforted and understood Sam had always made her feel. She and Dean had a strong bond, but so had she and Sam, once upon a time. Those bonds were so different, yet equally as important.

Everything felt reminiscent of the night that bond was formed. She was upset, Sam had his hand on her shoulder, and, she realized, she was starting to cry. She couldn't even control the tears as they fell from her eyes; she wanted to keep it in, wanted to try and forget, to stop the devastation that she hadn't felt in years, but she didn't stand a chance. Not when it was all too much for a human to carry and forget. Not when confiding in Sam seemed like it would somehow make it all better.

"Sam—" She sobbed, turning and wrapping her arms tightly around him, pressing her face to his chest. It was another instance of not caring, just like their hug in Colorado. She didn't care that they weren't the same yet, that the slightest awkwardness still lingered despite their willingness to move forward, that Sam might regret offering himself, that she might have been overreacting. She needed the comfort only he could give.

That was why she hadn't opened up to Dean this time. She knew she would cry. She could tell him things and he could listen, and he would never fail to protect her and make sure she was okay whenever things got bad, but break downs were different. She had never had a reason to break down in front of him before, and sort of feared such a thing. Dean was good and sweet, but he didn't seem like the type of guy who could handle it, not with the way he would beg her not to lose it. She didn't want to put him in an awkward situation. She didn't want him to look at her differently.

"Hey...hey...it's okay, Kat..." If the years of _not_ comforting her made Sam uncomfortable, he didn't show it, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back. He _did_ owe it to her. She held him while he cried after losing Jess, and she didn't let the time come between them, even for a second.

"It's not fair. I already lost him once." Her voice was slightly muffled by his shirt. "Now I lost everything I know about him. I know it's stupid...I know he was a kid...but I feel like all the stuff I thought about him was a lie. You know, I knew...what he turned into...what you, Dean, and John had to kill...I knew that wasn't him. But this _was_ him. I thought he was _good_ , and now..."

"You don't have to explain yourself. Look at my dad..."

"I know...I know." She took in a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. "It hurts all over again, Sam. All these years, and I have to go through it again."

"It's okay. I'm here. _Dean's_ here." He held her a little tighter. "We'll get through this. You know how much you've been helping me? You and Dean keep kicking my ass into gear when I'm being a jerk."

"That's true." She actually smiled now, just a little. "I'm sure everything will be fine. I know having you and Dean here is gonna help a hell of a lot. It just..." She pulled her head back just a bit to look up at him. "It hurts right now. I don't know what to think...I don't know what to _do_."

He smiled, too, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. I get that."

They fell silent for a few moments, before Kat pulled away, wiping her remaining tears away with her sleeve. "You didn't have to do that, Sam."

"I used to do at all the time, Kat." He said simply. "It felt good to do it again. Wait, that sounded _really_ wrong...you know what I mean."

"I do. It felt like old times."

"Yeah..." He paused, watching her. "So, can I tell Dean you're okay? He's pretty worried."

"Tell Dean...that I'll be fine. 'Cause I have my boys."

He chuckled. "Your _boys_?"

"My boys. Both my boys." She looked up at him, smiling softly. It was true. She knew she would get through this with them there...it was how she got through it all those years ago, and she knew it would be the same way now. Hopefully.

"You sure you're gonna be okay? I can stay..."

"I'll be fine, Sam. Go put your brother at ease."

He nodded, getting up and walking to the door.

"Sam?"

He looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He just smiled and opened the door, only to look back over his shoulder when she once again called out,

"Hey, Sam? I'm here, too."

"—I know. Thanks, Kat." Then he walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

Kat got up to turn off the light and then got into bed, turning the television on. Things obviously weren't automatically okay, but crying and talking to Sam helped for the time being, and gave her hope that things would be okay soon. She had made it through worse, hadn't she? Much worse. She would make it through this, no matter how much hurt. She had to.

When she fell asleep, her dreams were surprisingly and wonderfully uneventful.

* * *

 **A/N:** **I hope that wasn't too crazy, everyone! And I truly hope everyone was in character for what I've written. Seems like both boys are creating a habit of going to Kat's motel room lol. Apologies for any mistakes. Review please!**


	8. Phantom Traveler: Part One

**A/N: Hey, everyone! So, so sorry for the long wait! I was busy with all the holidays and then had some writer's block, but I'm here! Thank you for your reviews, follows, and favorites. Please enjoy and thanks for reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

Things, of course, weren't immediately simplified just because Kat had cried in Sam's arms for a few minutes. She slept peacefully and her few hours after waking up had not been so hard, but the more hours that ticked by, the more her brain caught up and wore her down bit by bit. By the end of the day, she was exhausted and found herself crying once more when she retired to her motel room.

The following days were the same. She would wake up mostly okay, start to tire throughout the day, and be back to square one by nightfall. Sam would ask her quietly how she was doing, and she noticed every single one of Dean's worried looks even though he tried to be subtle about it.

She didn't _want_ to be as upset as she was, really. She wanted to get better, believe it when she tried to convince herself that it didn't matter what her father had done, put on a real happy face, make Dean stop worrying. But she couldn't help how she felt. The knowledge that her father was not the man she looked up to was devastating; all that time, holding him in her heart as a wonderful man, only to find out everything she knew was wrong. Was she overreacting? Was she justified? She wasn't sure, and wondering about it didn't help one way or another.

Blissfully and terrifyingly, devastation always lessens at some point, in some way. Whether it's because you're worn out from being upset, or you move on, or you force yourself to be numb, it lessens. Maybe you cry less, or stop crying, or laugh more, or enjoy things again.

Kat happened to run out of tears after about a week. She cried all she could, and then there was nothing left to cry over. No one can cry forever. It didn't mean she was no longer upset, just that all her tears were spent and passed. There was just no point, her body seemed to decide, to sit and cry.

The pain lessened, too. A little. It started out as a horrible ache from such a betrayal, and turned to a moderate-to-severe ache. There were seconds when she didn't think of it, which was progress.

It helped that she had hunts. A ghost here, a horrible monster there. It was hard to wallow when she was trying not to be killed.

It also helped that she had Sam and Dean. While Sam was still a bit fragile and Dean was worried about _both_ of them, they were still such ridiculous idiots. They were amazing distractions and even got her to crack small smiles, that were growing little by little. It was an agonizingly slow progression, but it was there, and she knew she wouldn't even have that small progress if she didn't have her boys.

And, at the very least, she had her mornings, when her thoughts were refreshed and didn't wear her out until the afternoon.

Kat was and wasn't a morning person. It had been that way her whole life. She could get up around eight in the morning and be herself, not grumpy or overly chipper; but interrupting her sleep wasn't the best. But who did like such a thing? Everyone is a stranger version of themselves when they're tired, and she was included in that. Sure, she wasn't the type to scream for coffee or anything, but she was certainly less tolerant and a lot slower.

Especially this particular morning, as she woke up to a knock on her door.

Unexpected things were known to happen, so she had obviously been woken up a bit earlier than usual when there was some sort of monster-oriented emergency. However, this one was a first.

She lifted her head up from her pillow, looking over at the practically vintage alarm clock on the nightstand, blinking and blinking until her sleepy eyes could focus on the numbers. A five, a four, and a zero. Five, four, zero. 5:40. AM. Like, as in, 5:40 in the morning. She couldn't even remember getting up that early on Christmas.

She groaned, slowly pushing the covers back and getting out of the bed. "That better be some sort of horrible monster." She unlocked the door and opened it to find Sam standing there, holding a precarious stack of coffee cups in one hand and a box of presumably doughnut holes in the other. "Sam?"

"Hey. I thought you might want some breakfast..."

"Maybe in three hours."

"—sorry. I can let you go back to sleep if you want."

"No, no, I'm up. And I don't trust you and Dean not to eat all the food." There was no sense in going back to sleep anyway. The cold air from outside was already sweeping over her, waking her up just too much and yet not enough. She took one of the coffees so Sam wouldn't have to carry it, and also because it was _warm_. Her tank top and shorts were a fine idea for a semi-cozy motel bed, but not for a breezy motel doorway. She really needed to convince Dean to stop in a town with a laundromat so she could wash her more suitable clothing. "Dean up yet?"

"Nah, I just got back from picking up the coffee."

"You look tired," said Kat, with her tousled hair, sleepy gaze, and occasional yawn. But Sam _did_ look tired. The bags under his eyes were unmistakable and now common. She knew exactly why, as Dean hadn't really hesitated to tell her that Sam was obviously still having nightmares about Jess.

"I'm fine." A lie, of course, but Kat decided not to push it. It's not like it had done her and Dean any good to push it before. "I'm gonna go give Dean his coffee."

"I'll come with you." She yawned again, moving to the little dining table that was in her motel room. She set down her coffee and grabbed a hoodie she had thrown over a chair the night before, slipping it on. "I'm officially up now anyway."

Sam smiled a little sheepishly, waiting for Kat to grab her coffee and leave her room, before the two of them started walking to his and Dean's room. It was only a few doors down, which was wonderful since it was a chilly fall morning, and Sam handed Kat the box so he could unlock the door. He let it swing open without a care since he was waking Dean up anyway, stepping inside and pausing behind a rather art-like separation in the room as he took the box back from Kat and waited for her to shut the door. Then the two moved around to see Dean laying face down in bed.

"Mornin', sunshine!"

Dean groaned, pushing up just slightly off the bed and looking over his shoulder. "What time is it?"

"Uh, it's about 5:45." Sam said the time so nonchalantly it was almost disgusting.

"In the _morning_? Where does the day go?" Dean moved onto his side, practically squinting at Kat, obviously still not fully awake. "He got you, too, huh?"

"Unfortunately." She walked over, sitting at the end of the bed.

Dean chuckled, looking over at Sam. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I, uh," Sam looked away, making it obvious that he was lying. "I grabbed a couple of hours."

"You liar." Dean sat up and sat on the edge of the bed. "'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial." He rolled his eyes as Kat moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. "Ah, come on. Not this early in the morning."

"What can I say?" Sam shrugged. "It's riveting TV."

"When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know. A little while I guess...it's not a big deal." This came, of course, from the man with the aforementioned bags under his eyes.

"Yeah, it is."

"Look," Sam laughed. "I appreciate your concern—"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." It was a cover for his concern, as per usual. Dean couldn't be _too_ vulnerable. "I mean, what the hell is this thing going to do for me?" He gestured to Kat, who had felt awake while walking through the cool morning air, but was practically falling asleep on his shoulder now that she was settled in a decently warm motel room.

"Who do you think's been keeping you alive all this time, buddy?"

Sam smirked slightly at Kat's comment, and nodded to humor Dean.

"—seriously, you still havin' nightmares about Jess?"

He let out a heavy sigh, walking over to the second bed in the room and sitting down across from Dean and Kat. "Yeah. But it's not just her, it's everything." He handed his brother one of the two coffees he was still holding. Kat had tightened her grip on her own cup of coffee, sitting up and looking at Sam with concern. "I just forgot, you know. This job...man, it gets to you."

"Well, you can't let it." Dean took the lid off his coffee, setting it aside. "You can't bring it home like that." He took a large, justified — it still wasn't even six in the morning yet — sip.

"So, what? All this, it never keeps you up at night?" His question just received a shrug from the older Winchester. "Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really."

Sam let out a little chuckle, leaning forward and reaching under Dean's pillow, pulling out a huge, rather terrifying knife and holding it up as evidence.

Dean paused, unsure how to defend himself for a moment, before carefully taking the knife back. "That's not fear. _That_ is precaution."

"Alright, whatever." Sam said softly, looking down. "I'm too tired to argue."

"What bliss." Kat smiled and took a sip of her coffee. Even little, petty arguments between the boys over nothing were exhausting, and she was already pretty exhausted. "He's kind of right, though. I mean, I'm terrified all the time, but I can't let everything get to me. I just have to be scared of whatever the hell we're hunting, then let it go once we're finished. Sometimes it's easier said than done, but..." She allowed that to trail off. She never really had been bogged down by thoughts of monsters...not like she was now. Somehow her current situation made the hunting seem like rainbows and butterflies, especially since it was a welcome distraction.

Sam gave her an empathetic look. His dreams were most likely eighty percent Jess, twenty percent monsters. He knew that there were far worse things than goblins and ghouls.

"Are you kidding me? Just the thought of that wendigo almost sent you running straight for the hills—" Dean immediately stopped talking when his phone started ringing, grabbing it off the nightstand and looking at Sam and Kat with confusion.

"It isn't me."

"No shit." He gave Kat a look, flipping the phone open. "Hello?"

 _"Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You, your dad, and your friend helped me out a couple years back."_

"Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"

"It better not be." Kat sighed. "I didn't end up with a scar on my leg from being thrown around just for that thing to _come back_."

 _"No, no. Thank God, no. But it's something else and, uh...well, I think it could be a lot worse."_

"What is it?"

 _"Can we talk in person?"_

Dean and Sam's eyes met for a moment. "Yeah. We'll be there as soon as we can, okay?" He got the address for where to meet and then hung up, standing with a groan. "Looks like we're going to Pennsylvania."

"Hey, as long as it's not for that poltergeist, I'm cool with it." Kat took a large sip of her coffee, needing the energy it would give her to keep from falling asleep on the way there. "Do I have time to shower?"

"If you can shower in ten minutes."

"I can shower in five."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

She smiled slightly and walked out of the motel room, practically rushing to her room so she could get out of the cold and under a stream of lukewarm water.

Dean watched her go and Sam took notice with a sigh. "She's getting better, man. It's just gonna take a while."

"Yeah, I'm surrounded by people who take a while." He started to pass by, smacking him on the shoulder. "Pack your shit." With that, he went into the bathroom and shut the door.

* * *

"—so, the thing _throws_ Kat into a fucking glass table, it shatters, she's not moving, Dad's yelling at me to get more salt, and I'm going over to make sure she's still kicking—"

"I'm guessing she was?" Sam interrupted Dean dryly, smirking slightly as they discussed the _very there_ woman who sat in the backseat.

"Ha. You're hilarious. Anyway, she's up by the time I get over there, and I'm telling you, man...blood everywhere, and I've never seen her look so pissed off. Five minutes before that, she was trying to _reason_ with it."

"And yet who was the one who got rid of it and saved you and your dad?"

"Who was the one who dug a two inch wide, one inch deep piece of glass out of your thigh?"

"Who left a scar?"

Sam grimaced. "How is it again that this job doesn't keep you guys up at night?"

"Emotional trauma has stopped us from clinging to fear." That was a stark contrast to her answer from before, and her tone was so serious that the brothers shared a look. It was getting later, and as per usual lately, with the day came the reminder of...everything. It wasn't so bad, though. The first week and a half, she would talk less and less with each hour. At least she was still talking and participating, just not as lightly as she had before, or even that morning.

Oh, she so wanted to snap out of it. Things were very slowly getting better, but she was still so bogged down and it was exhausting. Why did it have to hurt so much? Why couldn't she pick herself up, and carry on, and be completely herself again? For more than a couple of hours? She hoped she would feel better quicker than she had when she was fifteen. Everything with her father was heartbreaking, but certainly less so than what she had been through before, and it was already progressing faster, but still slowly enough that she couldn't see where it would all turn around.

Certainly, anyone who believed happiness is a choice would be horrified. Every time she tried to force happiness, it only seemed to last for a solid few seconds, or longer if her mind was still sleepy. At least she was trying, right? Maybe happiness just isn't a choice in situations like these. Not in the beginning anyway, but maybe later.

She could tell Dean was uncomfortable because she wasn't herself, and that was what bothered her the most. Sure, she hated feeling so off, but it was awful that Dean didn't seem to know what the hell to think without a constistenly positive, bantering, feelsy, tough Kat. He was damn good at hiding his discomfort, though.

Sam was good. Sam was amazing, actually. They were still falling back into a comfortable routine, so while he was concerned, he wasn't overly freaked out by her change. It didn't make him put off so much, and he just did his best to make sure she was okay. He was really becoming her comfort again, like he had been all those years ago. It was...bittersweet. Sweet thing, bitter circumstance.

"Kat—"

"I'm fine, Sam."

And she was, really. Just fine. She wasn't completely and utterly depressed, but just upset enough to make a big difference. _Fine_.

She really wanted to stop thinking about her father and her complicated feelings now. She just needed to focus on the good moments until they were less few and far between.

* * *

Even though Kat was _just_ fine, she wasn't going to sulk around _too much_ while they were on a possible hunt. Not only was it disrespectful to Jerry and whoever else might need help, but it was damn dangerous to have her guard down when there was something lurking around somewhere; even when she was more upset, she didn't walk around completely dejected while on a hunt. The adrenaline helped distract her, of course, and she _really_ didn't want to mess up something like that. Hunts aren't something that can be fixed easily.

They made it to Pennsylvania and were now walking with Jerry through an airplane hangar, while he talked to Sam—rather excitedly since he got to meet another member of the group that helped him.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Kat, and your dad really helped me out."

"Yeah, Dean told me. It was a poltergeist?"

" _Poltergeist_?" A worker passing by had excitedly called out. "Man, I loved that movie!"

"Hey, nobody's talking to you." Jerry gave the man a look. "Keep walking!" He then glanced at Sam, lowering his voice. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you two and your dad," he nodded to Dean at the mention of John, "I probably wouldn't be alive." He turned a corner, giving Dean the opportunity to give Sam a cocky smile.

Kat stepped between them both and gave her own smug —albeit half-hearted and small — smile, as a reminder that _she_ had been the one to officially rid Jerry's home of the poltergeist.

"Your dad said you were off at college, is that right?" Jerry asked Sam as the four turned a corner, passing various airplane parts, both large and small.

"Yeah, I was. I'm...taking some time off." It was only slightly a lie.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

Though Jerry was leading them and couldn't see him, Sam gave him an incredulous look. "He did?"

"Yeah, you bet he did."

And it was true. Kat had known that night Sam had left, John's anger was mostly the pain of his son walking out on him; okay, it was mostly the fact that he need an extra hunter and didn't want Sam to do anything else with his life, but it was also a lot of pain from his son walking out on him. Once he adjusted to the fact, it wasn't strange for him to mention his 'son at Stanford' if they were spending a few days with someone, getting to know them a little as they helped get rid of whatever was bothering them.

"Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

Dean glanced at Sam and Kat, then stared at he floor as they walked. "He's, um...wrapped up in a job right now."

"Well, we're missing the old man." Jerry turned to face them, continuing to walk backwards toward their destination. "But we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" He chuckled, turning back around.

Sam let out a little laugh. "No, not by a long shot."

True. Sam was a much calmer man to have in place of John.

"I got something I want you guys to hear." He lead them into an office, gesturing for them to sit down — Sam offered Kat a seat; a contrast to her repetitive standing back in Blackwater Ridge — before sitting behind his desk, grabbing a CD and putting it into a drive. "Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

The audio began to play, the sound of a plane engine in the background as a man hurriedly spoke, _"Mayday, mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485! Immediate instruction, help!"_

Another voice soon sounded, _"United Britannia flight 2485, we copy your message—"_

 _"May be experiencing some mechanical failure—"_

The radio being used to communicate fizzled out, and there was soon a loud whooshing noise, almost sounding like an impossibly loud growl. Dean and Sam shared a look. Kat stared at the CD drive.

To hear the prelude of a crashing plane was so strange. So _heavy_. She could almost feel the panic of all the people who knew they were about to die.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow, nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board, only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert, he's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't."

"Couldn't've been," Kat said softly, looking up from the CD drive. "Not unless he purposely crashed the plane, and a man who sounds like that isn't purposely crashing a plane."

Sam gave her a thoughful look, before returning his gaze to Jerry. "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um," he began counting on his fingers as he listed the evidence they needed, "a list of survivors—"

"Right," Dean interrupted, "and, uh, any chance we can get a look at the wreckage?"

They were smart in their own ways, one would suppose. Kat got a feel of the situation and those involved, Sam focused on the data, and Dean wanted to get right down to the nitty-gritty.

"The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage...fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean nodded, shrugging slightly. "No problem." He stood up, moving away from his chair as Sam stepped aside and Kat stood. "You get us anything you can, we'll get to work."

"Thanks, Jerry." Sam nodded to him, moving to the door.

"No, no, thank you." Jerry stood up, walking to the door with them. "It really is great to meet you, Sam. I know you'll be a lot of help. And I'm glad to have your help Dean, and I'm really glad to see you're still part of the team, Kat."

Kat smiled slightly, not as bright as she could have, but at least it wasn't fake. "I'm glad to see that it wasn't another poltergeist."

"No." Jerry laughed. "I think you scared the one so much, I'll never have another."

* * *

Sam and Kat were leaning against the Impala as they waited for Dean to make them brand new fake IDs in some place called 'Copy Jack'. Kat had been leaning on the car for a while before Sam got out and joined her, and she was grateful because sitting in the car while he went over the recording from the plane over and over only gave her time to think, and leaning _against_ the car only gave her time to think, so the undistracted company was welcome.

It was deceptively sunny. If someone were looking out a window, they'd see that sun shining bright and think it was okay to wear shorts; but Pennsylvania in the fall was _not_ exactly warm, and both hunters were bundled up in their jackets.

They still stood in silence for a good ten minutes and Dean _still_ hadn't come out, so Sam asked softly, "How are you?"

Kat thought for a moment, then looked up at him with a small smile. "Usually by this point in the day, I want to crawl into a ditch. So I'm okay. I'm kinda...you know..." She looked away as she trailed off. "But...it helps to focus on the hunt. To focus on...all those people..."

It was hard to focus on, but it did help. She couldn't wallow in self-pity when she had to figure out what was behind the plane crash. What if it happened again? If that could be stopped, she'd be damned if she didn't do so because she was too busy laying in a ditch.

She really was getting better, though. Really.

"I know." He gave her a smile. "Dean's going crazy. It's...weird."

Speaking of, the older Winchester came out of the store just as a rather pretty woman was entering.

"Hey."

"Hi." He said with a bit of a laugh, looking her over as he let her in, before walking over to Sam and Kat and mouthing 'wow'. The two happened to exchange a look that was becoming common. It seemed he wasn't going _too_ crazy.

"You've been in there _forever_."

Dean lifted his hand to show the IDs he held, flicking them out to show off all three. "You can't rush perfection."

"Homeland Security?" Sam took two of the cards from Dean, handing Kat hers. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well...it's something new." Dean moved around the car. "You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." He got into the driver's side as Sam got into the passenger's side and Kat got into her usual spot in the backseat. "Alright, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's _definitely_ EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam grabbed his laptop, putting it on his lap.

"Yeah?"

"Listen." He pushed play on what he'd gather on his computer, and Kat leaned on the back of the front seat so she could listen.

The typical noise was out of focus now, instead a rough, chilling voice could be heard saying, _"No survivors."_

"'No survivors'?" Dean furrowed his brow. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

"Got me."

"Maybe that was its intention?" Kat eyed the computer screen, the voice playing in her head over and over. "It just didn't realize the possibility of survival."

Dean nodded, looking at Sam. "So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?"

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers. Or, uh, remember flight 401?"

"Right. The one that crashed and the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and the co-pilot haunted those flights."

"Right."

"Yep."

"Maybe we got a similar deal."

Kat wasn't sure. That voice just sounded _different_ from any spirit she'd ever encountered.

"Alright, so, survivors." Dean picked up the list of survivors that Jerry had given them. "Which one do you want to talk to first?"

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey."

"Why him?"

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird...he did."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I spoke to his mother, and she told me where to find him."

* * *

It wasn't long before they were entering a place called 'Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital'. It was obvious Max really must have seen something, because he hadn't been in that hospital before. Telling someone or even thinking you saw a ghost, or an apparition, or someone disappearing, or something just as terrifying was a one-way ticket to a place like this.

They went inside under the guise of Homeland Security and were taken to see Max, and asked to speak with him outside so as to avoid any eavesdropping. The four were walking through a pleasant courtyard, Max using a cane for an injury from the plane crash.

"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security."

"Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions..."

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Sam was quick to start asking questions before Dean could.

Max frowned, shrugging a bit. "Like what?"

"Strange lights, uh...weird noises, maybe. Voices." Dean's list of possibilities earned a look from the guy that lasted a moment too long for his short answer to be entirely true,

"No. Nothing."

The four moved to a little wooden table with chairs, all of them sitting down as Dean started to continue, "Hm. Mr. Joffey—"

"Jaffey." It came from two voices, one from the man who was being addressed and the other from Kat, whose reminder came with a sigh.

"Jaffey. I knew that." Dean gave Kat a little look, before returning his attention to Max. "You checked yourself in here, right?" He got a nod. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed." His tone of voice made it obvious he found the question to be pretty stupid. "I survived a plane crash."

"Uh-huh. And that's...what terrified you? I mean, that's what you were afraid?" If Max could talk to Dean like he was stupid, Dean could talk to Max like he was a liar.

"I...I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what."

"No! No, I was...delusional. Seeing things."

"Oh. He was seeing things." Dean said dryly, looking at Sam and Kat before rolling his eyes.

"Look." Kat leaned forward on the table. "Maybe you were just seeing things, but maybe you weren't, you know? We need to get all the information we can, just in case. What did you _think_ you saw?"

Max hesitated, sighing a couple times as he tried to find the words. "There was...this—man, um...and, uh, he had these..." He gestured to his face. "Eyes. These, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I _thought_ I saw him..." He stopped, looking down, probably out of fear and thinking he was about to sound ridiculous.

"What?" Dean asked a bit impatiently.

"It's okay." Kat looked at him with as much support and kindess she could muster. It wasn't hard, she felt for the guy. Just like every other case. Even now, when she was partly wrapped up in herself, she wasn't going to stop caring. She hoped. "You're safe. You can tell us."

"—he opened the emergency exit." That one had the three hunters sharing a look of surprise with one another. "But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."

Dean couldn't respond, but Sam could, "This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear? Rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?"

"What are you, nuts?" Max laughed. It was a fair question, but Sam still looked a little bit offended. "He was a _passenger_. He was sitting right in front of me."

* * *

They left the psychiatric hospital and carried on to the next person on the list, or at least the relative of a person on the list, hoping for some clearer answers. What Max had to say just left them confused.

"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C."

"Hm." Dean stopped the car, leaning over to peer out the passenger window at the house they were parked outside of. "Man, I don't care how strong you are." He swung his door open and got out, followed closely by Sam and Kat. "Even yoked up on PCP or somethin'?" He leaned on the roof of the car. "No way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"It doesn't matter if you take any drug in the book, nothing can make you that strong. Even that sudden, heroic strength people get wouldn't do it, and it wouldn't even make sense to be heroic in that way, on an airplane." Kat got a surprised look from Dean. Probably because it was the afternoon and she was still talking. "No one can do that."

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else." Sam turned to lean against the opposite side of the car roof to look at them. "Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form?"

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean gestured to the house, which Sam turned to look at. It was a pretty typical suburban house, maybe a little higher end than some, but exactly what a normal family would be raised in; two stories, innocent white siding, flowers in the yard and hanging in planters, and lacy curtains in some of the windows.

"—not really."

"But doesn't that make it perfect?" Kat was almost joking, but not quite, and she wouldn't have even been _almost_ joking if it weren't for her mind being mostly off of things. It felt good, but it was fleeting. "Let's go."

They walked up to the door of the house, Dean knocking as they waited until a pretty, middle-aged woman opened the door. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Phelps?" Dean took out his ID, letting her see he was Homeland Security. "We're here to talk about your husband. We're looking into the plane crash and wanted to know if we can ask you a few questions."

"Oh. Of course...please, come in." She was soft-spoken, stepping aside to let them come in and leading them to her living room. "Please, sit down." She moved to sit on the couch as Sam and Dean took chairs across from her, and Kat sat on the opposite end of the couch, turned so she could face the woman.

Sam picked up a picture of a man, looking at it. "This is your late husband?"

"Yes, that was my George."

"And you said he was a...dentist?" Dean seemed rather unimpressed.

"Mhm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly?" She began to tear up, her lips quivering. "For him to go like that..."

Kat instinctively reached over to touch the woman's hand, offering what she could. George sounded like a nice, typical man and his wife seemed like a nice, typical woman. Neither of them deserved this. But who did?

"How long were you married?" Sam was so damn good at being soft and gentle. Better than Kat was most of the time.

"Thirteen years." That seemed to lighten Mrs. Phelps' mood a little, as she gave a proud smile.

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well..." For a moment, it seemed like she might have something. "He had acid reflux, if that's what you mean."

Sam and Dean shared a look, and Kat couldn't help but crack a small smile.

The rest of the visit didn't help anything. They learned about George's small health issues and his other fears besides flying, but Mrs. Phelps couldn't offer them anything that was exactly monster-like about the man. At least it let them cross someone else off the list.

They still left no further along than when they got there, though.

"I mean, it goes without saying." Sam walked down the steps outside of the house behind Dean, in front of Kat. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, a middle-aged dentist with an ulcer's not exactly evil personified." They stopped as they approached the Impala. "You know, what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."

"—okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part."

* * *

Kat walked down the street feeling incredibly out of place. She had never dreamed about being a businesswoman and never considered herself to fit the part, but she damn well better have looked like one now.

The three of them trying to get into the warehouse as Homeland Security while wearing jeans, jackets, boots, and casual shirts was unrealistic, so it's not like they had a choice. Sam and Dean were able to rent some suits from a place in town, but Kat had to find the closest store that sold women's business attire. She was glad that clothes in small-town Pennsylvania weren't too expensive and that she had plenty of money stashed away from the pool she'd played, but they just weren't clothes she desired to own.

It was good, though. Hunts were getting more involved lately, and while she had posed as someone of another occupation before, she only had her dresses she used for pool. And they had people plenty questionable, so it was time to update. And those dresses were in the laundry, anyway, which needed to be taken to a laundromat at some point.

She wondered if she was as bad as her father. Her father had killed someone when he was young, and that _wasn't good_ , but here she was. An adult who cheated drunk men at pool, and posed as Homeland Security, and didn't have a normal job, and she hunted _ghosts_. It wasn't exactly something to be proud of. But maybe her dad, being who she never thought he could be, was proud of it. Looking at her from wherever he was—

It was besides the point. She did this for the good of mankind, right? It didn't matter for the time being. She had a hunt to focus on. She could have all the thoughts and realizations _later_ , when she wasn't depended on.

So, she was walking down the street feeling incredibly out of place. The only thing that felt halfway decent were some plain, black heels she'd picked out; her stark white dress shirt, black blazer, and black skirt were another story. She'd glanced in the mirror before she left the store and barely recognized herself.

She could see Sam and Dean standing outside the rental place as she got closer, the younger of the two looking sophisticated and, honestly, dashing. Dean would have looked just as good were it not for the obvious discomfort on his face and in his body language.

They both looked at her in surprise when they noticed her. She wasn't sure if it was because she looked good or because she looked as ridiculous as she felt. She decided not to worry about it and instead focused on Dean. "What's wrong?"

"These are stupid. Who invented this shit?"

"It's not the first time you've worn a suit, Dean-o." But that _was_ the first time she'd used that nickname in the past couple of weeks. She moved to him to straighten his tie, just managing to do so before he batted her hands away like a child. "Besides, at least you look the part. I look like a ghost hunter wearing a dress suit for the first time." Another almost joke. If only thoughts of her father weren't still coming and going like a really terrible guest.

"Hey, I like the skirt."

Okay, pencil skirts were admittedly sexy, but that didn't stop her from giving him a look and a quiet, "Shut up." She stepped back, looking at both of them. "Let's see what we can find." She then turned and opened a back door of the Impala, moving into her usual seat.

"I told you she was getting better, man."

"—yeah, whatever." Dean couldn't let himself sound too pleased, and he figured it wouldn't last anyway. It hadn't yet. "Let's just get this show on the road. The sooner I can get out of this suit, the better." He walked around to the other side of the Impala.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam got into the passenger's seat.

* * *

Getting into the warehouse with their fake badges and new attire was incredibly easy, without a single question from the security guard, but walking around all the wreckage of the plane wasn't so easy. It wasn't physically difficult, since everything was arranged carefully and spaced apart; it just felt as heavy as that recording had. All the broken pieces seemed to carry the fear and pain that everyone felt.

Kat trailed a bit behind Sam and Dean, letting her gaze trail over everything.

"What is that?"

"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies."

She looked ahead, trying to shake off the intense feelings that being in this room gave her as she caught up to Sam and Dean.

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?"

"That's what it is." She stopped next to them. "He made it himself." Her information had Dean giving his brother a proud grin.

"Yeah. I can see that." And the judgement in Sam's tone had that grin dropping, turning into a bit of a scowl.

Instead of starting an argument, Dean turned on the meter and began walking, moving it back and forth over bits of the wreckage. They had walked several feet with the meter not picking anything up, until Dean ran it over a door handle and it began to make a high-pitched whining noise. "Check out the emergency door handle." He tucked the EMF meter away, touching some yellow dust that was on the handle and scratching a bit off. "What is this stuff?"

"One way to find out." Sam took out a knife and flicked the handle out with ease, moving to put a sample of the dust into a bag.

"It could be some kind of drug, but again...no drug could make a human able to open an emergency door in the middle of a flight." Kat was looking at the dust, but just happened to notice out of the corner of her eye as Dean wiped his fingers on Sam's suit jacket. "Dean!"

"What? I wasn't doing anything!"

"You were— wait. Do you guys hear that?"

"Hear what? Now you're going crazy—"

"Sh! Just listen."

Dean obliged, if only because he was kind of relieved to see a glimpse of the Kat he knew.

It was only a moment before they all heard it. Footsteps. Several pairs of footsteps. They were thundering through the warehouse, getting closer and closer...coming for them.

"—let's go." Sam put the bag of dust into his pocket, looking around for a door.

"Over there." Dean took the lead, moving quickly to an exit that lead out to the back of the warehouse. The three paused outside, gathered their bearings, and made sure no one was waiting for them before they strolled out nonchalantly.

Until an alarm started blaring.

They all burst into a run, moving to the fence that kept people like them out of the warehouse. It was tall and had a few rows of barbed wire, so Dean threw his jacket over it to protect himself, Sam leapt over as swiftly as he could, and Kat took advantage of Dean's jacket. While her bare hands were protected from the barbed wire, the force of her landing as she pulled herself over the fence caused the heel on one of her shoes to break off.

"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy." Dean said as he grabbed his jacket, before running off.

"Damn! These were the only good thing about this outfit." Kat picked up the broken heel and ran after Dean as best as she could with her current leg height difference.

Sam stared after the two for a moment, then realized it was more important to run than it was to wonder why that's all they could think of in the moment.

* * *

They managed to escape without getting caught and took the sample of dust to Jerry to see if he could figure it out. It took a little while as he examined it under a microscope; Dean stood by and watched him intently, Sam loosened his tie and sat down, and Kat sat as well to avoid the discomfort of wearing one shoe that was now lower than the other.

Jerry sat back. "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur."

"You're sure?"

"Take a look for yourself." He backed away from the microscope.

A loud banging noise suddenly came from outside, followed by, "You fuckin' piece of crap!"

"If you three will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." Jerry moved around the table he'd been standing at, leaving the room. "Hey! Eintstein! Yeah, you..." The farther he went, the more his words quieted.

Dean went to look in the microscope. "Hm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue."

"Demonic possession?"

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."

"If the guy was possessed," Sam sighed. "it's possible."

"Yeah, but this goes _way beyond_ floating over a bed or barfing pea soup." Dean straightened up, putting his hands on his hips. "I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use 'em to take down an entire airplane?"

Kat ran a hand through her hair, sighing. "Why not? They're supposed to be evil, right? I don't see what would stop them from using their power to kill a bunch of people. Sounds like a movie to me."

"You ever heard of something like this before?"

Dean shook his head. "Never."

* * *

They'd done a hell of a lot of research. A hell of a lot. Thinking it might be a demon was a good lead, and now the three hunters were in the boys' motel room, with books everywhere and pictures and articles taped to the wall. Sam sat at the little dining table in the room, tapping away on his computer, while Dean sat on one bed and read through a book that was laying open on the opposite bed. Kat sat cross legged behind him with a book in her lap.

They were all back in their normal clothes and none of them had complaints.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean, Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this."

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and manmade. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."

"And this one causes plane crashes?"

Sam answered Dean with a sigh and a shrug.

"Why not?" Kat turned a page in the book. "Like I already said, they're evil. Maybe they just realized planes are a good vehicle for that."

Dean let out a breath, standing up. "Alright, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah." Sam said quietly. "You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" He stared at Dean as he laughed a little and turned away. "What?"

"I don't know, man." Dean scratched the back of his head. "This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah. Me too."

Kat kind of wished he was, too. Kat kind of wished her dad were there, for different reasons, of course. She wished John were there because he would know more about this, be able to figure it out and help them. She wished her dad were there so she could get answers, and closure, and peace, and—

"Get out of your head." She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud until she got two confused looks from the boys. She felt like she was going insane. She just wanted to feel completely okay, but it was hard. Her thoughts just kept coming around to her father and how much it hurt to know he'd kept something so detrimental from her. "Sorry. Guys. This isn't normal, and I guess it doesn't really make sense, but we have to deal with it. I wish your dad were here, too, but it's just us. We _have_ to figure this out or it might keep happening."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but paused when his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Hello?"

 _"Dean, it's Jerry."_

"Oh, hey, Jerry."

 _"My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert, is dead."_

"Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry, what happened?" An apology was never good in a situation like this, so both Sam and Kat put all their attention on him.

 _"He and his buddy went up in a small twin...about an hour ago. The plane went down."_

"—where'd this happen?"

 _"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."_

"I'll try to ignore the irony in that."

 _"I'm sorry?"_

"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, alright? We'll catch up with you soon." He shut his phone, putting it back in his pocket.

Kat closed the book and set it aside, getting off the bed. "What's going on?"

"Another crash?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Where?"

"Nazareth."

"—like as in the Bible?"

Dean turned to give Kat a look. "Nazareth, Pennsylvania. Come on."

* * *

And so they went to Nazareth, and looked at the wreckage, and found more yellow dust, and took it back to have Jerry look at it again.

"Sulfur?"

Jerry pulled away from the microscope with a sigh and a short nod.

"Well, that's great." Dean turned to look at Sam and Kat, the former sitting behind Jerry's desk and the latter leaning against a file cabinet just behind him. "Alright, so that's _two_ plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news."

"What's the bad news?"

"Chuck's plane went down _exactly_ forty minutes into the flight. And get this, so did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes?" Jerry looked at Dean, then at Sam and Kat. "What does that mean?"

"It's biblical numerology. You know, Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death."

"I went back," Sam gestured to Jerry's computer. "And there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that _all_ went down exactly forty minutes in."

"Any survivors?"

"No. Or, not until now, at least. Not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?"

"'No survivors'."

"—I was right. It said that because that was the intention." Kat furrowed her brow, before her eyes widened slightly. "Chuck. That's still the intention." She looked at Dean with a bit of alarm, who seemingly also had wheels turning in his head as he realized the situation.

"It's trying to finish the job."

"We have to go. Now." Kat quickly walked from behind the desk and Sam wasn't very far behind. "We'll stop this, Jerry. I'm sorry we couldn't help Chuck, but we're not gonna let this happen again."

Jerry thanked them and wished them luck several times over, and then they were in the Impala, Dean driving while Sam and Kat made work of calling the survivors on the list to find out if they were going on a trip anytime soon.

"—please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thank you very much." Kat hung up her phone just as Sam was ending his own call in a similar way. "Okay, Blaine Sanderson says he's never stepping foot on a plane ever again."

Sam shut his phone with a sigh. "And Dennis Holloway isn't flying anytime soon." He grabbed the list of survivors, crossing the two names off.

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker."

"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight PM. It's her first night back on the job."

"Ah. That sounds like just our luck."

"Dean, this is a five hour drive, man. Even with you behind the wheel."

"We have no other choice, Sam." Kat leaned forward in the backseat. "We have to at least try to get there in time."

"—why don't you call Amanda's cellphone again? See if we can't head her off at the pass."

"I already left her three voice messages!"

"And I left her two."

"She must have turned her cellphone off." Sam glanced at his watch. "God, we're never gonna make it."

"Oh, we'll make it."

Somehow — it may have had something to do with Dean speeding and generally ignoring most traffic laws — they made it just in time, rushing past people and running over to the departure board.

"Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay," Dean said, slightly out of breath. "We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone." He looked around, before spotting a courtesy phone and running to it with the other two behind him, taking it off the hook.

 _"Airport Services."_

"Hi. Gate thirteen."

 _"Who are you calling, sir?"_

"I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker, she's a flight attendant on flight, um..." He paused a moment, looking at Sam and Kat as he tried to remember the number. "Flight 424." There was a long pause as the other line called for Amanda. "Come on..."

"What if she's already on the plane?" Kat briefly wondered how arrested they would get if they got on the plane and dragged her off.

 _"This is Amanda Walker."_

"Ms. Walker," Dean's words and sudden professional tone of voice assured that they wouldn't have to do that. "Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."

 _"Karen?"_

"Nothing serious. Just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so..."

 _"Wait, wait, wait. That's impossible, I just got off the phone with her."_

Dean paused for a moment. "—you what?" Maybe they _were_ going to have to go drag her off the plane. Kat and Sam shared a worried look.

 _"Five minutes ago. She's at her house, cramming...for...a final. Who is this?"_

"Um...well...there must be some mistake." He turned away and Sam and Kat quickly moved closer to hear the conversation.

 _"And how would you even know I was here? Is this one of Vince's friends?"_

"Guilty as charged." Dean chuckled.

 _"Wow. This is_ un _believable."_

"He's...really...sorry."

 _"Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life. Okay?"_

"Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so..."

 _"No, I'm sorry, it's too late."_

"Don't be like that! I mean, come on, the guy's...a mess, really, it's pathetic."

 _"—really?"_

"Oh, yeah."

 _"Look, I gotta go, um...tell him to call me when I land."_

"No, no, wait, Amanda. Amanda!"

These hunts were one of the only things that kept Kat together. Helping people and saving people was the main reason she did this, and she couldn't let Amanda get onto that plane if she could help it. Sure, it was a little crazy when she yanked the phone out of Dean's hand, but her emotions were already heightened anyway. "Amanda? Amanda? Shit!" She hung up the phone and moved away, running a hand over her face.

Thankfully, both Sam and Dean didn't feel any better about it.

"Damn it!" Dean paced back and forth. "So close."

Sam looked to be deep in thought, looking off into the distance before taking in a deep breath. "Alright. It's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane."

Were they actually going to have to drag her off and get arrested?

Regardless, Dean's mood suddenly took a shift that made Kat notice and pause. "Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second."

"Dean. That plane is leaving, with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right," Sam became aware of the people around them and lowered his voice. "That plane is gonna crash."

"I know!" Fear was becoming evident in Dean's voice. His eyes were wide before and now they grew even wider.

"Okay! Then we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. Look, I'll get the tickets, you and Kat just go get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever'll make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Sam turned to go to the counter to buy the tickets.

"—Dean." Kat moved to him. She could feel the fear coming off him even more than she could feel his discomfort when he was first wearing that suit from before. It took over everything, momentarily wiping away any thoughts of her own pain or Amanda's quickly-approaching predicament. "What's wrong?"

That made Sam stop and look at his brother, who looked more nervous by the second. "Are you okay?"

Dean shrugged, licking his lips. "No, not really."

"What?" Sam glanced at Kat, then back at Dean. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I kind have this problem with, uh..." He just sort of gestured and moved his hand through the air.

"Flying?"

"It's never really been an issue until now!"

"You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"Alright. Uh...Kat and I will go." He gestured to Kat, who nodded as she eyed Dean sympathetically.

" _What?_ "

"We'll do this one together."

"What are you, nuts?" He looked back and forth between them. "You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash!"

"Dean, we can all do it together, or Kat and I can go up there by ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option here."

"Come on!" Dean shifted on his feet, seeming an awful lot like a little kid. "Really? Man..."

"I'm gonna go get the tickets, okay? You guys get stuff from the trunk." Sam turned again to go and Kat was pretty sure she saw him smirk before he walked off.

When she looked back at Dean, he was sort of staring off into space and mouthing words to himself. He seemed to be going over every horrible scenario he could think of. "Dean, it's gonna be okay."

"No, the plane's going to crash."

"No, we're going to stop it." Though Dean was often disgruntled by 'touchy-feely' things and would likely push her away, she took his hand. He didn't respond, but he didn't push her away either; whether he was too scared or just didn't notice, she wasn't sure. "Let's go to the car and get what we can." She tugged on his hand and that's when he seemed to notice the hold, and he pulled away rather than pushed, and nodded stiffly. They walked quickly through the airport.

"If the plane crashes, I'm haunting your asses."

"We'll be dead, too, Dean."

"Well, it ain't gonna be peaceful."

* * *

 **A/N: Ah! I am so happy to have completed this chapter! I hope you all enjoyed :) Sorry about not writing in the beginning of the episode, but I made you all wait so long, I didn't want to just spend time writing a portion of the script but with more words! lol. Kat's a bit of a mess right now, but she'll figure things out. My apologies for any mistakes there might be, I always write these things pretty late at night! Please review if you would like! Although, I'm a little afraid because I had a dream that I signed on to see I had sixty new reviews, but they were all people telling me the story was terrible lol.**


	9. Phantom Traveler: Part Two

**A/N: Sorry about the wait everyone! I thought I would get this out sooner, but didn't find the time to write. Not just that, but I always think I'll wait a couple days to start the next chapter and then before I know it, so much time has passed! Hope you still enjoy anyway!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

They had been in the air for about eight minutes and Dean had been freaked out for at least ten, which went against all laws of math, but somehow seemed correct.

They managed to get three seats together, Sam sitting by the window, Dean on the end, and Kat in between. It was a peaceful flight so far, aside from Dean's panic and the knowledge that a demon could crash the plane and kill them all.

Okay, maybe not that peaceful.

"—you're humming Metallica?"

Sam's confused question prompted Kat to turn her attention to Dean who was, in fact, softly humming a Metallica song.

"Calms me down." His answer was short and clipped, and it was obvious that he was so nervous that he barely even wanted to talk.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "Look, man, I get you're nervous, alright? But you gotta stay focused."

"Okay." How convincing.

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism."

"Yeah, on a crowded plane, that's gonna be easy."

"Just take it one step at a time, alright? Now, who is it possessing?"

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

Kat nodded. "My money's on Amanda. She's on a plane after surviving a crash not that long ago, not to mention she's probably thinking about her boyfriend who she thinks wants to see her."

Sam voiced his agreement and Dean looked up at a flight attendant who was walking through the aisle. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?"

The flight attendant smiled sweetly. "No, I'm not."

"Oh, my mistake." Dean gave her a smile as she walked off, before quickly looking into the back of the plane where another flight attendant was. "Alright, well, that's gotta be Amanda back there, so...I'll go talk to her, and I'll get a read on her mental state..." He was pressed tightly against the seat as he had been for most of the short plane ride, words and breaths coming out nervously.

"What if she's already possessed?"

"There's ways to test that." Dean reached into a bag at his feet, taking out a bottle of water that had Mary on it. "I brought holy water."

"No." Sam reached over Kat to yank it away, quickly hiding it in his jacket. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh. Nice." Dean unbuckled his seatbelt, standing and starting towards the back of the plane, only to stop and turn back as Sam called after him. "What?"

"Say it in Latin."

"I know." He turned to go again.

"Hey!"

He rushed back, leaning down and glaring at Sam. " _What_?"

"Uh, in Latin, it's 'Christo'."

"Dude, I know, I'm not an idiot." He moved to go to Amanda once again, only for Kat to grab his arm. He rolled his eyes and whipped back around, giving her a look. "I know. It's Christo. I know how to say it."

"Dean." She gave him a look of her own, though hers was worried whereas his was just plain frustrated. "Do you want me to go instead?"

"What? No. I'm fine."

"You're sweating."

"I'm fine! And I'm not letting you go after a demon by yourself." He pulled away, pausing and staring at them both to make sure they had nothing else to say, before turning and walking through the aisle.

Kat watched him go, sighing as the plane shook and he stumbled, taking out his nervousness by punching a seat before he carried on.

"You okay?"

She settled back in her seat to look at Sam, smiling softly. "Yeah. I'm good." Good was better than fine. She hadn't thought of her father much at all since they figured out there would be another plane crash; she had bigger things to worry about that were at the forefront of her mind. It was likely she would be back to 'fine' once all this was dealt with, but she felt okay for now. And 'fine' really wasn't so bad compared to what she felt before anyway.

"Good." There was a beat of silence, before Sam asked with a bit of an amused smirk, "Can you believe Dean is afraid of flying?"

"It's not funny, Sam."

"Come on. You don't find it a little funny? Dean's not scared of _anything_."

"Sure. In fact, I'd say it's as funny as the clown sitting behind us."

Sam immediately turned his head to look at the seats behind them, his look of slight fear soon morphing into annoyance. There were just two normal people behind them: a man resting his eyes and a woman reading a book. "You're hilarious." He did sound a little relieved. Maybe because there was no clown, maybe because Kat was actually joking around like normal. Maybe both. "Watch out for the snake on the floor."

"Like I'm gonna fall for that." Despite her words, Kat carefully pulled her feet up off the floor, just in case there happened to be a snake that wanted to crawl up her leg or something. Sam noticed with a smirk, but took John's journal out of his bag instead of making a comment.

The two had shared a lot when they were younger, and fears weren't excluded. Evidently, their fears remained the same over the years.

Dean returned, dropping into his seat with a sigh. "Alright, well, she's gotta be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

"You said 'Christo'?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"There's no demon in her. There's no demon _getting_ in her." He buckled his seatbelt as Sam let out a sigh.

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere."

The plane shook and next thing Kat knew, she had Dean's crushing grip on her arm. She had dealt with pain, but this was something else entirely, and she couldn't help the slight whimper that passed through her lips. "Dean—"

"Come on! That can't be normal!"

"Hey, hey," Sam spoke softly, "it's just a little turbulence."

Dean gave his brother a look of anger and fear, lowering his voice. "Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four!"

"You need to calm down."

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga shit. It's not helpi—"

Sam leaned over Kat so he could look Dean in the eyes. "Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now."

Dean hesitated, before taking in a breath and letting it out slowly, his posture starting to relax. His grip, however, did not, and the consistent pain was starting to make _Kat_ panic, which would make _her_ open to demonic possession.

" _Dean_ ," she said his name through a clenched jaw, grabbing onto his hand.

Sam looked down, before quickly looking up at Dean. "Dude! You're gonna break her arm. Let go. Just relax." He watched as his brother took another breath and released Kat's arm, who quickly pulled it to her body with a relieved sigh. He shook his head and turned to look at John's journal. "I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum."

Dean looked at the book almost sadly. Panic had turned to defeat, with a little guilt added in for Kat's arm. "What do we have to do?"

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

Both Kat and Dean shot Sam wide-eyed looks and the latter asked, "More powerful?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"I'm sorry," Kat stared at him. "This is something we _want_?"

"Well, yeah, 'cause the second part sends the bastard back to hell...once and for all."

Dean sat back, seeming like he was trying not to look scared, his words frustrated. "First thing's first, we gotta find it." He leaned down, searching through his bag until he pulled it his homemade EMF meter. "You guys memorize the Roman Ritual—"

"Rituale Romanum." Sam reminded him with a sigh.

"Yeah, whatever. Just memorize it while I see if I can find the son of a bitch." He got up and took a step, but briefly turned back. "You two gonna stop me to tell me a bunch of shit?" He was met with two innocent looks, so he nodded and turned away, walking to the back of the plane.

"Here." Sam set the open journal between himself and Kat, so they could both skim through the needed words. They had managed to go over it three, maybe four times, before Dean came back into view as he finished scanning down the aisle.

Both hunters got up and moved up behind him, Kat saying his name just as Sam clapped him on the shoulder. The poor guy nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Don't do that!"

Sam ignored his brother's fear and asked, "Anything?"

"No, nothing. How much time we got?"

"Fifteen minutes." Sam sighed. "Maybe we missed somebody."

Dean looked around, shaking his head. "Maybe the thing's just not on the plane."

"—you believe that?" Clearly Sam didn't, by the look he gave Dean.

"Well, I will if you will."

"I'm willing to believe it." Kat spoke lowly, fully aware of how strange it must look to the passengers for the three of them to be standing together. They'd be in for a world of police interrogating them once they landed if someone happened to hear them. "Maybe we'll just land safely, then we can have a nice vacation?" She got a look from Sam, but Dean was too busy looking down at the EMF meter. "What's wrong?"

He looked up and both she and Sam followed his line of vision, just as the copilot of the plane stepped out of the bathroom. He gave the three a smile and a nod, before moving towards the door to the cockpit, opening it just as Dean softly said, "Christo." The man paused, then turned to look over his shoulder at them with pure black eyes and a pissed off look.

Sam and Dean stared and gulped, while Kat grabbed onto their arms. Her grip was nowhere near as tight as Dean's had been before, but it was as tight as she could manage, what with fear she hadn't expected taking over her body.

"Shit. _Shit_. The _copilot_? He can take the plane down in an instant. What are we supposed to do now?"

Dean glanced at Kat, then at the door to the cockpit, then at Sam. "We should tell Amanda. We can't get to him without her."

"What makes you think she's gonna do what we want, Dean?" Sam shook his head. "We barely have enough time as it is."

Kat forced herself to calm down, knowing that fear wasn't going to help anything. Especially with a time limit, fear would only hold her back. "We have to try."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"I'm gonna break into the cockpit."

"Kat, you can't break into the cockpi—"

"Dude." It was very rare that Dean ever had to interrupt an argument between Sam and Kat, whether a light or serious one, as they didn't butt heads often. Even their little rifts when Sam joined them again had been quick, and he wasn't involved anyway. "Unless you've got some genius plan, let's go talk to Amanda."

Sam relented after a moment, turning to walk towards the back of the plane with Kat and Dean behind him. "She's not gonna believe this."

"Twelve minutes, dude," Dean reminded him as they continued to the back of the plane, where Amanda was fiddling with something.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled as she recognized Dean, but did cast a confused look at Sam and Kat. It was probably odd, having three people out of their seats and in the flight attendants' work area. "Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." Dean looked at Sam as he closed the curtain.

Amanda, God bless her, didn't even seem put off by the fact that she was alone with three strangers, one of which just closed the barrier between them and other people. Most people would have looked worried or tensed up in preparation for whatever could come, but she didn't even flinch. She really was the most well-adjusted person on the planet. "Um, okay. What can I do for you?"

"Alright, this is gonna sound nuts," Dean lowered his voice, "but we just don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there' speech right now."

Sam touched his brother's arm, as a way of 'tapping in', so to speak. "Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485."

That finally seemed to get to Amanda. Her smile fell and she took in a rather fearful breath before asking, "Who are you?"

"Not stalkers," Kat was quick to say, offering her a reassuring smile.

"Now, we talked to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure."

"We need your help, because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now."

Amanda furrowed her brow and averted her gaze. "I'm sorry, I—I'm very busy. I have to go back—" She tried to squeeze between Kat and Dean, only for the latter to grab her by the shoulders.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second."

"I have to go ba—" Her words halted with a gasp as he pushed her back, and she was beginning to look a bit fearful.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But—"

"Chuck Lambert is dead." Kat's words were quick and blunt, but her tone was soft. She spoke in such words not to push Amanda or get things over with, but rather to keep the situation from getting worse. While she knew Sam and Dean were harmless, Amanda was more than likely starting to feel threatened, and the last thing they needed was her screaming and the Winchesters ending up tackled by passengers. She didn't want the poor woman to be scared of them anyway; it wouldn't be fair to her. "The pilot from flight 2485. He died in a plane crash."

"Wait, what?" Amanda's tone was full of shock and upset. "What— Chuck is dead?"

"That's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?" Dean's words were just as blunt as Kat's, but not as gentle. She couldn't blame him. They probably had about ten minutes to go.

"Not just two plane crashes." Kat gave Amanda the most meaningful look she could. "But also with the same guy. That doesn't just happen."

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too."

"Amanda, you have to believe us."

"We're telling the truth. We may sound crazy, but we're not messing around here."

Sam's convincing words, Dean's urgent tone, and Kat's reassurance seemed to finally get through to her. She stared at them, then looked away, hesitating and rubbing her forehead in distress, before saying, "On 2485, there was this, uh, this man, he...had these eyes."

"Yes!" Sam almost sounded excited. "That's exactly what we're talking about."

"I don't understand. What are you asking me to do?"

"Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here."

She seemed unconvinced again. "Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Don't have time to explain, we just need to talk to him, okay?" Dean's answer was bullshit, but it probably wouldn't go down well if he said they needed to exorcise him.

"Well, how am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the copilo—"

"Whatever it takes." Sam was becoming as urgent as Dean now, realizing that they were _so close_ and the seconds were ticking by. "Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit."

"Do you know that I could lose my job if—"

"Okay, well, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out."

Seeing her hesitation, Kat intervened. "Please. If we don't do what we need to do, this is going to end up like flight 2485 and Chuck's plane." Her words combined with three earnest stares did the trick.

"Okay." She moved past them and opened the curtain, walking through the aisle to the front of the plane, where she knocked on the door to the cockpit as Sam, Dean, and Kat watched.

"What if he doesn't come over here?" Kat eyed the copilot nervously when he stepped out to talk to Amanda.

"Then I guess you can break into the cockpit." Sam's whisper was begrudging and humorless, which was fine. The knowledge that all could fail and the plane could crash wiped out Kat's humor more than everything with her father did.

After a moment, the copilot turned to speak to the pilot and then followed Amanda to the back of the plane. The three quickly moved away from the curtain, Sam taking out holy water while Dean took out John's journal and handed it to him, before pulling out some duct tape.

"Now what's the problem?" The copilot had just stepped through the curtain when Dean hit him hard, sending him stumbling into the emergency exit. He wasted no time in grabbing him and slamming him to the floor, pinning him down as he put a strip of duct tape over the guy's mouth.

Sam moved to their left, Kat moved to their right, and Amanda quickly approached them with a gasp. "Wait, what are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him!"

"We _are_ gonna talk to him!" Dean continued to hold him down while Sam splashed holy water on him, making his skin burn and sizzle as he struggled.

"Oh my God. What's wrong with him?"

"Look." Sam looked up at Amanda. "We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain."

"No, wait, I don't understa— I...I..." She was running her hands over her face and her hair, looking at the man in complete fear, so Kat quickly moved to her.

"You need to wait outside, okay?" She put one hand on Amanda's back and the other on her arm, gently — but urgently, because time was flying by — guiding her to the curtain. "You need to make sure that nobody comes in." The woman was pretty stuck on the man being burned by water. "Okay?"

She nodded after a moment. "Okay. Okay!" She opened the curtains, rushing out just to get away from the terrifying scene.

Kat returned to the opposite side of Sam by Dean and the demon, while the older Winchester punched him to keep him down. "Hurry up, Sam, I don't know how much longer I can hold him."

Sam splashed more holy water on him, then turned to the journal, brow furrowed. "Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino..."

He continued to read the ritual aloud, until the demon got its arms free from Dean's grasp and hit the holy water out of Sam's hand. He shoved Dean away before turning and hitting Sam so he fell back. Kat moved to pin the demon down again, but Dean was back on him in a second and Sam kept on with the ritual. All she could do was watch nervously.

Until the demon shoved Dean back again, and she moved to grab him, only for him to backhand her _hard_ , sending her flying back. She groaned as the side of her head hit the wall, trying to get back up, only to find herself dizzy.

The demon had ripped off the duct tape and pulled Sam close, mocking him, "I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!" He released Sam and looked over at Kat with a grin, who was struggling to her feet. "So's Daddy, we all know him down there. About time you figured it out, you bi—" Dean, filled with a new anger for both Sam and Kat, jumped on top of him and hit him again.

He wasn't the only one who was angry. Kat had felt sad, upset, confused, betrayed, but she had yet to feel truly angry over what her father had done; but now she felt it. The demon talking about her father in hell, that his evil deed made him well-known, sparked something inside of her. It was something she considered, but hoped not to be true. He could have been lying for all she knew. Could her father even be in hell? He had turned into a monster before he was killed. Did monsters go to hell? Did it even count since her father had spent all his life as a human before that? She didn't know. She didn't care. All she knew was that her head hurt, they only had a handful of minutes before the plane was supposed to crash, and the demon's words stung.

Sam was angry, too, as he looked at the demon in a daze of despair and hate. Kat stood fully and reached over Dean and the demon to take the book from him, immediately starting to read where she was sure he left off. There was hardly a line left before Sam, out of his daze, called out, "That's it!" He knelt down and helped Dean pin the demon, while Kat dropped the journal and backed away. They barely noticed that the journal was kicked out of the room and down the aisle, all too busy staring at the man as a black substance that must have been the demon fled from his mouth and disappeared into a vent.

"Where'd it go?" It wasn't clear whether Sam meant the demon or the journal.

"Into the plane. We gotta finish it."

Sam nodded and stumbled through the curtain, just as the plane suddenly careened and lighting began flashing rapidly in the sky. Passengers were screaming, Dean stumbled back, Kat fell to the floor, and Sam struggled through the aisle to get the book. Dean tried to help Sam and Kat tried to get up, but the plane started to nosedive, so the former was thrown back against the wall and the new angle had the latter sliding across the floor.

Kat hit the wall much more gently than when the demon had hit her, and was vaguely aware of Dean screaming beside her.

So that was it, then. All they had dealt with, and they were going to die in a plane crash. Sure, it was caused by a demon, but still. It seemed very mundane.

Just as she accepted this, the plane leveled out and all commotion stopped. Sam had found the journal and finished the ritual.

Kat let out quite possibly the heaviest sigh of relief and looked to her side to see a very terrified Dean. "It's okay, Dean. We made it."

"Uh-huh." He nodded stiffly, starting to stand. Kat stood with him to help him, only for her own legs to nearly give out, and the two ended up grabbing onto each other; Dean quickly put an arm around Kat's shoulders to keep from passing out from the previous events, while she put an arm around his middle to keep from passing out from her hit to the head. They walked carefully to the curtain, looking out to see Sam standing there. He looked back at them and all three had a look that seemed to convey both relief and a shared sentiment of why-does-this-shit-happen-to-us.

* * *

After that mishap, the plane obviously returned to its first destination and let all the passengers off. Paramedics came to help the now-injured copilot and police came to question people on what happened. They were questioning Amanda while Sam, Dean, and Kat stood by. She looked over at them while she wrapped up with the officer, mouthing an incredibly sincere 'thank you'.

They nodded to her, then Dean turned and sighed, "Let's get out of here." Sam and Kat followed him silently as they moved to leave the airport, and he was quick to notice Sam's solemn look. "You okay?"

He didn't answer at first, but soon stopped and turned so Dean and Kat were forced to stop in front of him. "Dean, it...it _knew_ about Jessica."

"Sam, these things, they...they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was."

"Yeah."

Dean sounded so right, yet Kat couldn't help her own fears at what the demon said about her father. She was absorbed in her thoughts for the first time in what felt like forever — it had only been a few hours since she last fell into the rabbit hole that was the entire situation with her dad, really — so she unknowingly stayed with an equally-deeply-thinking Sam as Dean carried on to the exit.

"Hey." Sam was pulled out of his own thoughts and pulled Kat right out of hers as he looked at her with concern, brow furrowed. "You're bleeding."

She focused on the slightly throbbing pain she felt, on the side of her forehead just next to her right temple, and reached up, flinching as she touched the wound there. She pulled her hand away to see fresh blood on her fingers. "I guess I am. It's not so bad."

He gave her an unconvinced look, but nodded towards the exit anyway, walking with her out of the airport. Dean was already by the Impala, waiting impatiently.

"About time. What were you two doing? Hugging?" He chuckled. Even after a barely touchy-feely moment, like comforting Sam, he had to go back to his usual self with a bit extra to make up for it. Sam just rolled his eyes and got into the passenger's side while Kat moved to a back door.

"—Dean." Her voice came out much smaller than she intended, and the tone alone had Dean pausing with his hand on the driver side door's handle and looking at her with veiled worry on his face. "Do you think the demon really was lying? Do...you think my dad's in hell?"

She wasn't sure why it mattered. Her father had done something wrong and kept it a secret for his entire life. It made her upset and hurt her beyond belief. Wasn't hell where he belonged? She supposed it was, yet for some reason, her heart refused to allow it. No matter how hurt she was, he was still her father. She still loved him. She still missed him. Was this what it took to realize it? The thought of him being damned, and not just damned, but well-known among the demons and whatever else was down there.

"Honestly, Kat? I don't know." He sighed. "Look, just...don't worry about it. He was just trying to freak you out and throw you off. I'm pretty sure it's their MO." He was met with a nod, and stared at her. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah, I know, Sam told me."

"I'll take a look at it when we're back at the motel."

"Dean, I'm fine." She received a harsh looked and sighed, nodding. "Okay." She owed it to him, since she kept him pretty closed off from the stuff about her dad. The least she could do was let him make sure her wound wasn't completely dire.

* * *

They met up with Jerry the next day, waiting by the Impala on the airport tarmac.

"Nobody know what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could've been killed." He reached out to shake Sam's hand. "Your dad's gonna be real proud." He then shook Dean's hand and, lastly, Kat's.

She leaned against the car with Dean, two butterfly bandages over the small cut on her forehead that she'd received during the flight. He had come to her motel room the night before with first aid supplies, making her sit down as he carefully cleaned her wound with a soapy washcloth — it stung, and she winced, and he muttered out the word 'baby' with an amused smirk on his lips; the moment felt normal — and bandaged her up. He left her with some extra bandages, bid her goodnight, and left the room.

He didn't push her about her father, though he never had. He wasn't the type to _ask_ to hear people's feelings, but more the type to complain to his brother about her lack of venting to him, like she was prone to do. He was more the type to get frustrated and concerned, and hope things returned to normal. She didn't know if he actually _wanted_ her to open up, or wanted the Kat that he knew back; the one who was open even if Dean grumbled about it. Probably the latter.

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam said, as Jerry started to walk off. He paused and turned back around when Dean called after him.

"Yeah?"

"I meant to ask you," Dean moved around to the driver's side of the car. "How did you get my cellphone number anyway? I've only had it for like six months."

"Your dad gave it to me."

All three hunters paused, Sam turning to face Jerry slowly. "What?"

"When did you talk to him?"

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but, uh, called his number, his voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys." He nodded to them, before walking off.

They let the information sink in, then got into the car. Dean moved it from the tarmac to the entrance of the airport parking lot. They got back out, the brothers sitting on the trunk while Kat stood by, waiting in case they needed her support.

"This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number, like, fifty times. It's been out of service." As Sam spoke, Dean had dialed their dad's number.

A message immediately started playing and he quickly leaned over to let Sam hear. _"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."_

Dean snapped the phone shut. Sam clenched his jaw, bouncing his leg for a moment, before getting up quickly and moving to the passenger side door.

Kat saw his teary, angry eyes and reached out to touch his arm, but he just ignored her and got into the car. She met Dean's eyes over the hood over the car as he went to get in, briefly met with a pained expression before he simply shook his head and slid into the car.

Everything was just buckets of fun, wasn't it?

* * *

 **A/N: Aw, they think they're sad** _ **now**_ **:) Probably not the most exciting chapter, but we're slowly getting into it! Sorry if there are any mistakes, and I hope you all enjoyed. If you would be so kind as to favorite, follow, and review, that would be lovely!**


	10. Bloody Mary: Part One

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. Again! How many times can I say that? lol. Thanks for reading and hope you all enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

Kat was in a pretty decent mood.

The idea of her father in hell had given her pause, being something she'd never considered before and something that seemed unbelievable, even though it was technically where he belonged for what he'd done. Her heart still refused. She found it leaning towards forgiving him, like her opinion mattered enough to keep him out of hell.

All she knew was that she felt lighter and more afraid at the same time. The betrayal and hurt faded, but the thought of her father in hell terrified her. But she pushed it back, refusing, not totally able to comprehend it. She still wondered if he even _could_ be in hell, since he wasn't exactly human when the Winchesters killed him. She wondered if monsters went to heaven, or hell, or anywhere. There was so much she still didn't know.

Either way, despite her wondering and thoughts, the demon's words hadn't dragged her down like they could have. They somehow pushed her forward, a little. That wasn't to say she wasn't still upset, but it helped. She wanted to think her father had redeemed himself enough to _not_ go to hell...she looked up to him because he was so wonderful. That couldn't _all_ have been an act, right?

So, she was in a decent mood. Even though she, Sam, and Dean were headed to Ohio to check out a possible hunt. Hunting had been her distraction, but it wasn't exactly a mood lifter when it involved hospital basements.

Sam had fallen asleep an hour into the ride. He still hadn't been sleeping much, if at all. Kat even ran into him one night when she was hungry, finding him staring listlessly at the vending machine outside the hotel they were staying at. She was a little creeped out by the zombie-ness of him, but offered him a couple quarters for a drink or snack. He declined, his reaction a little delayed, and looked at her with sleepy eyes.

She had wanted nothing more than to lay in bed with him and talk until they both fell asleep, like had happened a few times when they were younger. But they were older, and still not as close as they once had been, and she wasn't sure it would help anyway. It was his nightmares that kept him up — or kept him from sleeping because he was too afraid to face them.

Both she and Dean let him sleep in the car, though. His brother gave him an eye roll when he noticed, which was followed by a brief look of worry; the same one he'd been giving to Kat since she found out about her dad. Those looks lessened as he saw her slowly coming back to herself, but they didn't waver with Sam because Sam didn't waver.

They pulled up to the the hospital eventually, and Dean actually waited a moment before looking at his brother. But they couldn't wait too long, and Sam was making faces and little noises that hinted at a nightmare. "Sam, wake up."

Kat closed the book she'd been reading — a lore book, rather than a cheesy romance — and sat forward to gently pat Sam on the shoulder. He jumped awake in an instant, leaning forward and taking in the surroundings of reality with a bit of confusion.

"—I take it I was having a nightmare?"

"Yeah. Another one." Dean stared at him, before slowly looking away.

"Hey, at least I got some sleep."

"You know, sooner or later, we're gonna have to talk about this."

Sam ignored him, glancing out the back window at the hospital. His eyes fleetingly met Kat's as his gaze moved. "Are we here?"

"Yep. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio."

"You could at least _act_ impressed, Dean." Kat looked outside the car just like the two Winchesters, taking in the quaintness of the area. "It's not much different than any of the other places we've ended up."

Sam grabbed a newspaper off the floor of the car, where the reason for them being in Toledo had been circled with a marker. "So what do you think really happened to this guy?"

"That's what we're gonna find out." Dean took his father's journal out of his jacket, passing it back to Kat who tucked it safely on the seat. "Let's go."

They made their way into the hospital, an old and well-kept building, and walked until they found the morgue. There was a desk for the doctor, which was empty, but a technician sat at a second desk, greeting them with an almost surprised, "Hey."

"Hey."

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're the, uh...med students."

"Sorry?"

"Oh, Doctor—" Dean gestured to the empty desk, clearly trying to remember the name that was on the doctor's desk. "—Figlavitch didn't tell you?" He got a slightly nervous look from Kat, who was pretty sure that name was _not right_. "We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

The technician smiled like he was merely humoring them. "Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh." Dean looked at Sam and got a look in return that basically asked what he planned to do next. "Oh, well, he said, uh—" He returned his gaze to the technician. "Oh, well, you know what, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't." His tone was smug and sounded like he thought they were stupid. "Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour?" Dean hissed lightly, grimacing. "Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then." He spoke directly to Sam and Kat, who both gave fairly convincing affirmations. "Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—"

"Uh, look, man," he immediately shot back mockingly, "no."

Dean gave out an impatient chuckled and turned away as he mumbled through clenched teeth, "I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear." He got a slap on the arm from Sam and was quickly shoved further away from the man to prevent a fight.

Kat didn't want a fight anymore than Sam did, so she stepped up to the desk and pressed her palms to it, leaning over and maybe squeezing her arms _just_ slightly to make her chest a little more pronounced. Was she shameless? Well, no. She didn't feel squeaky clean when she had to try and flirt to get something, but it was something she had to pick up. Womanly wiles were something that would work on some men for millions of years; hence why she made a good buck by playing pool. Though she didn't _flirt_ so much as wear a revealing dress and convince half-drunk guys that she didn't know how to play.

"Look, sir, I _really_ can't fail this class." She gave him her most pleading look, a little horrified that she was nearly pouting. What _was_ she?

The technician faltered for a moment, staring at her. "—sorry, lady, I can't help you. But if you need to do any papers on a _living_ human body, I'd be happy to volunteer."

Sure, what Kat was doing could be considered gross, but that _comment_ was grosser. She only managed the beginning of a scowl before Sam immediately yanked her back in both protection for her and for the man behind the desk. He pulled out his wallet and took out a few twenty dollar bills, tossing them on the desk.

Now his eyes lit up, quickly snatching the money as he stood. "Follow me."

Sam started to do just that, only to be pulled back by Dean. "Dude, I earned that money."

"You won it in a poker game!"

Dean shrugged like that was practically a career. "Yeah!" He watched his brother walk off, before looking at Kat. "You know, that usually works. Now I'm out, like, at least a hundred bucks."

"I'm not exactly on my A game, Dean." Close, but not quite. She started to follow Sam, with the older Winchester moving next to her. "Besides, he's a creep. I prefer it when they get all doe-eyed."

Dean seemed to pause at the mention of her not being on her A game, but recovered quickly as they followed Sam and the technician. She wished she could completely move on faster, if only just to calm him.

They stopped by a table with a body underneath a sheet as Sam mentioned, "Now, the newspaper said the daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding."

"More than that. They practically liquefied."

Kat felt for the girl, knowing how awful it must have been for her. But she couldn't focus much on any sort of empathy when the technician pulled the sheet off of Steven's face, revealing that his eyes seemed to be missing right from the sockets, replaced with blood. She let out a slightly horrified gasp, while Dean let out a noise of shock that was somewhere between a sigh and a whistle. They'd seen some intense shit, and this was moving right to the top of the list.

"Any sign of struggle?" Dean asked after a moment. "Maybe somebody did it to him?"

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the...official cause of death?" Sam's tone was laced with a bit of disgust, and a part of Kat wanted to tell him that it might have something to do with, you know, having his eyes melting out.

"Doc's not sure." The technician seemed oddly cheery. "He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

"What do you mean?"

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

Kat was starting to understand why Dean wanted to hit him. Sure, it was only natural to get used to this sort of thing when you worked with it all the time, but he was almost acting like it was _amusing_.

"The eyes." Sam was still staring at the body with discomfort. "What would cause something like that?"

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" Dean had been staring at the eyes until that point, lifting his gaze to the technician.

"That's a first for me. But hey, I'm not the doctor."

Kat noticed Sam's look stay on his face when he looked at the creepily nonchalant man. She met his gaze and felt like he was telling her that he, too, understood Dean's desires now.

"Think we can take a look at that police report? You know, for, uh, our paper."

"I'm not really... _supposed_ to show you that." His tone was suggestive, and now he looked at Kat like he was ready to take her up on her previous offer.

Dean looked down, seeming like he was trying not to punch him, while Sam rolled his eyes and quickly took out his wallet. The money seemed to satisfy him again even though he was up for something different, and he went to get the police report. After they looked that over, there was thankfully nothing left to ask him for, and he scribbled down his number for Kat as they walked out.

She crumpled up the bit of paper and tossed it in the first trash can they passed in the hallway, earning an amused smile from Sam before he turned somber.

"Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing." They walked down a set of stairs.

"Your eyeballs disappearing? So much blood that it pours out from where they once were? I think that's pretty unheard of, Sam."

"Kat's right. And how many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?"

"Uh...almost never?"

"Exactly."

"Alright." Sam sighed. "Let's go talk to the daughter."

* * *

It felt pretty fucked up, crashing a funeral. But, then again, how morally responsible was it to impersonate federal agents, or use fake IDs, or make up fake people to get credit cards, or trick people into losing a game of pool? A lot of the stuff they did was pretty questionable, but it was all for good.

That was how Kat justified it, anyway. If they didn't break a few rules, they couldn't save people.

And if they didn't show up to Steven's funeral, they would just have to do that impersonating-a-federal-agent thing. The former just happened to be sooner, therefore saving more people if this situation was as supernatural as it seemed.

Given that it was a funeral, every family member, friend, colleague, and acquaintance was dressed in formal, black clothing. Except for three unprepared hunters. They wore their typical jeans and boots, and though they all wore different jackets, they were very much not the correct attire.

"Feel like we're underdressed." Dean's sarcastic comment did not go without an eye roll from Sam and a glare from Kat, though the two ultimately followed him further into the quaint Shoemaker house.

"So, what do we know about the daughter?" Kat asked as they moved down a corridor to another room, looking around surreptitiously at the people.

"Her name's Donna."

"And?"

There was a beat of silence, so Sam was quick to give Dean a frustrated look. "What else?"

"—her name's Donna." One frustrated look turned to two. "What? Like I'm gonna stalk a teenage girl so we can find her?" His words were whispered, but just loud enough that an older couple passing by gave him an alarmed look. He gave a half-nervous, half-charming grin and said, "Hey, how ya doin'?" As soon as they were gone, the smile fell. "Look what you made me do."

Sam rolled his eyes and looked around, before moving over to a man. They spoke for a brief moment, where he gestured to them and the man looked over with a nod, before he started to walk off and Sam gave them a look as he followed. Kat walked after them first, with Dean a moment behind as he practically sulked, "I could've done that."

"That's her, over there." The man said as they walked outside, pointing to a girl who was sitting with a few others.

"Thank you." Dean said before Sam had a chance to, walking over. "You must be Donna, right?"

One of the girls eyed him appreciatively, but Donna remained somber as expected. "Yeah."

That's where Dean's plan and skills ended, evidently, as he looked to Sam and Kat for help. "Hi, uh, we're really sorry." Sam wasn't at his best either, but it did earn a genuine 'thank you' from the girl. "I'm Sam, this is Dean and Kat. We worked with your dad."

Donna looked at the girl next to her with slight confusion and alarm, then back at Sam. "You did?"

"Yeah. This whole thing, I mean, a stroke."

Kat sighed at Dean's insensitivity as Donna looked down sadly and her friend next to her said, "I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now."

"It's okay." Donna nodded. "I'm okay."

Dean hesitated, making sure, then continued questioning like an FBI agent with the tone and demeanor of a concerned friend. "Were there ever any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?"'

"No."

There was a girl sitting on the opposite side of Donna, younger then the rest, who quickly turned to face her. "That's because it wasn't a stroke!"

"Lily, don't say that."

Sam furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I'm sorry, she's just upset."

" _No_. It happened because of _me_."

"Sweetie, it didn't."

If Kat's heart ached for Donna, it ached even more for this young girl who seemed so sure that she caused her father's death. "Did you see something, Lily?"

"Why would you say something like that?" Sam asked softly at the same time, crouching down to meet the girl at her level.

"—right before he died, I said it."

He shook his head. "You said what?"

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." There was a brief pause, as Dean gave Kat a look that conveyed realization and she met that with a confused one of her own. "She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault."

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could've been Bloody Mary." Dean's voice held the slight condescension one used when putting a child at ease, though the words sounded sarcastic to Sam and Kat. They knew too much. "Your dad didn't say it." A slight hesitation, then urgency to learn all they could, "Did he?" He, Sam, and Kat looked intently at Lily.

"No, I don't think so."

Dean gave her a reassuring look. "Well, that settles it, right? It wasn't your fault."

"Of course it wasn't." Kat smiled softly. "That's just a game. You can't hurt anyone with it, okay?"

Sam joined the child-reassuring group as he rose to his full height. "Yeah. Well, we won't bother you. Sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Donna said it both for their condolences as Dean and Kat echoed the sentiment, as well as for them calming Lily down.

They walked away, back towards the house. "Alright, let's check the bathroom before we get out of here." Dean was referring to the bathroom mentioned in the police report, listed as the scene of the incident. They made sure no one was looking before they quietly went upstairs and walked through a hallway.

Kat saw a few pictures of Steven Shoemaker, eyes and all, with his daughters. It made her feel a twinge of pain for the girls and longing — and pain still — for her own father, but she pushed the feelings away. Now wasn't the time, and her mind seemed to decide there was no need to dwell in the first place.

They came to a door that was slightly ajar and Sam pushed it open all the way, revealing a nearly pristine bathroom aside from two dried blood stains on the floor. "The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?"

"Not that I know of." Dean shook his head, turning the light on and stepping into the bathroom, while Sam reached down to touch the blood.

"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

"That's because it's a _game_." Kat walked in, stepping over the blood carefully and forcing herself to stare at the mirror as if it were a challenge. "It's just a ga— oh, who am I kidding?" She decided it would be best if she just avoided the mirror. "I know what goes on. I wouldn't be surprised if Candy Land is real and Lord Licorice is trapping people in candy as we speak."

"Okay, one, I hope so, because Princess Frostine is a babe. And two, maybe everywhere else it's a story, but here it's actually happening."

"The place where the legend began." Sam had been giving Kat a look that struggled between amusement and you-only-think-you're-funny, before he looked at Dean with understanding. "But according to the legend, the person who says B—" He immediately fell short when he realized the mirror, which Dean had opened since it was a medicine cabinet, was right in his face. He quickly shut it. "The person who says...you-know-what gets it. But here—"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah."

"Right."

Kat bit her lip. "Maybe she doesn't hurt kids. Can ghosts have morals?"

"Maybe? I've never heard of anything like that before. Still, the guy _did_ die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you-know-who scratches your eyes out."

"It's worth checking into."

There were suddenly footsteps in the hallway, and they looked at the door in a panic, quickly moving out of the bathroom. The girl that had been sitting with Donna was there, moving to rest a hand on the wall. "What are you doing up here?"

"We..." Dean started, looking for help, only to be met with two other people who couldn't think of a good answer either. "We had to go to the bathroom." Well, if they didn't look shady and creepy before...

" _Who_ are you?" She nearly laughed. Accusing. Sure of herself. Absolutely genius and correct for realizing they were lying.

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad."

"He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant..."

"And all those weird questions downstairs? What was that?" There was silence as they looked at her sheepishly. She crossed her arms. "So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming. Are you guys some kind of pervs who crash funerals and have threesomes?"

"No!" Kat was quick to answer before Dean could sass back or Sam could intervene. "No, that's definitely not it." She sighed. "Look...we're here because we think something might've happened to Donna's dad."

"Yeah, a stroke." She had that judgmental teenager tone down pat.

Sam looked at the blood on the floor. "That's not the sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else."

"Like what?"

"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"So, if you're gonna scream...go right ahead."

She looked at them, then down in consideration, and back up. "Who are you, cops?"

They shared a look and Dean smirked. "Something like that."

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam took a piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket, writing down his phone number. "You think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary...just give us a call." He handed her the paper, as the three of them moved past her, sort of still a little afraid that she may scream.

Kat paused for just a moment, though, turning back. "Even if you think you're crazy," she spoke seriously, meeting the girl's eyes as she faced her, "call us. We're not gonna think you're crazy at all. Trust me." With a nod, she followed Sam and Dean downstairs.

* * *

They'd gone to the library straight afterwards to dig up information on any woman named Mary who'd died in front of a mirror, like the legend says...only to find that all the computers were out of order. Which meant they were going to have to search for who knew how many news articles and records using books, which was going to take a hell of a long time.

And it did. They were still poring over pages well into the night and Sam, tired as ever from lack of sleep, ended up passing out, while Dean and Kat carried on. At one point, when the sun was only a few minutes from starting to rise, Kat had gone out to grab them some snacks from the motel's vending machine. Those were gone a few minutes _after_ the sun started to rise.

She was sitting across from Dean at the room's dining table, book resting there and one elbow resting next to it, her chin in her hand. Dean wasn't much different, though he was relaxed back in his chair and let his head tilt into his hand.

She yawned, blinking slowly as she tried to keep focused on the words in front of her.

"Hey. Catch a couple hours."

"If I lose focus, I'm gonna pass out halfway to my room."

"So use my bed."

" _You_ use you're bed. Sam's already asleep and I can read faster."

"You've been staring at the top right corner of that page for the last five minutes."

"—I have?" Kat blinked, then shook her head. "Okay, let's see what we have so far." She reached for the notebook Dean had been writing possible leads in, but he snatched it before she could. "What?"

"Just...I don't want you to mess it up."

She narrowed her eyes at his obvious lie. "Dean, let me see it."

"No."

"Dean!" Her yell was more of a whisper so as not to disturb Sam, but it seemed to do the trick as he reluctantly handed over the notebook. "Thank yo— why are half these notes just random doodles? Some of which are graphic." She gave him a look.

"It's not my fault. It just...happened, alright?"

She sighed, tossing the notebook down and leaning back in her chair. "I think we could both use a couple hours of sleep. We're not getting anything done."

Before Dean could respond, Sam suddenly woke up with a gasp. They both looked over, watching him as he paused and took in his surroundings. "—why'd you let me fall asleep?"

"'Cause I'm an awesome brother."

"Because you needed it."

Dean sighed, straightening up in is chair. "So what'd you dream about?" There was an edge to his tone, since he already pretty much knew.

"Lollipops and candy canes." Sam didn't even need to sound sarcastic.

"Yeah, sure."

"Please tell me Lord Licorice wasn't there." Kat was all too relieved to close the book she'd been reading. She was okay with research, sure, but they had been going at it for _so long_ and she was obviously exhausted.

Sam gave the slightest of smirks, making no move to get up as he looked at them. "Find anything?"

"Oh, besides a new level of frustration?" Dean shrugged. "No. We've looked at pretty much _everything_." He closed his own book as Sam sat up a bit. "A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

"Dean did find his talent for drawing the female physique, and I discovered just how well a corner of this book was made." Kat watched as Sam flopped back down, getting up and moving to sit down next to him. She mostly did it so she could feel the bed; how comfy a mediocre motel bed could feel when one hadn't slept for twenty-four hours, give or take. She tried her best not to lay down.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet." He looked up at her and the two met with tired gazes.

"I've also been searching for strange _deaths_ in the area, you know...eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's _nothing_. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."

There wasn't even time to consider that before Sam's phone started to ring. He glanced at it for a short moment, grabbing it from where it had been left on the bed next to him and flipping it open. "Hello?" A curious look turned to a concerned one and he sat up. "Who— hey, hey, just calm down. What? Okay. We'll meet you there." He shut the phone, quickly getting off the bed.

"Who was it?" Dean had tossed the book he'd been reading onto the table, standing.

"The girl from the funeral. The one who followed us."

Kat started to perk up at the thought of information, getting up to grab her jacket. "What did she say?"

"All I could really understand was that her name's Charlie, somebody named Jill is dead, and she wants to meet at the park to talk to us."

"You think it's the same deal as Shoemaker?"

Sam looked at Dean, shrugging as he opened the door. "There's only one way to find out."

When they got to the park, Charlie was there waiting for them, pacing back and forth. It was obvious she'd been crying recently, and she only started sobbing loudly the moment she saw them come up to her. It broke Kat's heart to watch the poor girl cry and she couldn't bear to let her just stand there weeping. She'd comforted people that knew her even less than Charlie, so she didn't hesitate before wrapping her arms around her.

"It's okay. Can you tell us what happened?"

Charlie nodded and collapsed on a nearby bench, followed by Kat who kept an arm around her. Dean moved to sit on the back of the bench on the opposite side of her, while Sam remained standing with a sympathetic look and his hands in his pockets.

"It was my friend Jill. I—I was on the phone with her and she said Bloody Mary...I thought nothing happened, but the next morning I found out that her parents...she was late for school, she hadn't come down...so they went to wake her up—" She paused to take in a shaky breath as she continued to cry. "—and they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her _eyes_. They were gone."

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly.

"And she _said it_. I _heard_ her say it. But it couldn't be because of that." She looked at Kat, then at Sam and Dean. "I'm insane, right?"

"No, you're not insane."

"Not at all." Kat was quick to match Dean's reassurance, gently squeezing Charlie's shoulder.

"—oh, God, that makes it feel so much worse."

"Look." Sam paused, trying to find the right way to bring what they knew up. "We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained."

"And we're gonna stop it, but we could use your help."

"My help?" Charlie looked at Dean in confusion. "What can I do? I'm just..."

Kat pulled away now that the girl had calmed down. "Is there any way you can let us see where Jill was? Maybe we can find something."

"I...I guess..." She looked at each of them warily. "This is just so it won't happen again, right?"

She was met with a nod from Dean, a 'yeah' from Sam, and a 'right' from Kat.

* * *

It wasn't long before they were crouched on part of the roof of Jill's house, waiting outside her bedroom window for Charlie to let them in. Sure, they could lie — unsuccessfully, of course — about working with Steven Shoemaker, but what could three grown adults say they had in common with a teenage girl? Certainly her parents knew her teachers, and even if they didn't, teachers showing up to look at their student's room would be...weird.

"Y'know, I've snuck into girls' bedrooms for better reasons."

Sam glared. "Dean!"

"Sneaked." Kat was looking through the window, waiting for a glimpse of Charlie, so she didn't see Dean's incredulous look.

"What?"

"It's sneaked." She turned her gaze to him. "Snuck isn't actually a real word."

At least Sam was smirking now instead of glaring. "She's right. Americans made up the word 'snuck'."

"—shut up." After Dean's _incredibly_ witty comeback, the window opened. Kat climbed in first, then Sam, and Dean came in last as he muttered something about all words being made up; which, Kat had to admit, was valid.

Sam had been carrying a duffel bag and he set it on the bed, glancing at Charlie. "What did you tell Jill's mom?"

"I just said I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things. I _hate_ lying to her." She rubbed her forehead in angst, while Dean shut the window and drew the curtains behind her.

"Trust us, it's for the greater good." He patted her on the back. "Hit the lights."

Charlie did as was asked before walking back over to them. "What are you guys looking for?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it."

"Hey, night vision." Sam held up a camera he'd taken out of the bag and Dean reached over to turn on night vision for him. "Perfect."

Upon noticing the camera was pointed at him, Dean posed. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?" He received a hit on the arm from the back of Kat's hand. "Ow!"

"Not funny."

Charlie smiled, but no one was sure if it was at Dean's joke or Kat's response.

Sam decided to leave all of it alone and walked over to open Jill's closet, starting to film the mirror. "So, I don't get it. I mean...the first victim _didn't_ summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"

"Beats me." Dean had taken out an EMF meter and was walking around the room with it. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place." He paused to look at Charlie.

She shrugged. "It was just a joke."

"Yeah, well, somebody's gonna say it again. It's just a matter of time."

Kat moved to the closet before Sam could close the door, standing in front of the mirror as he went into the bathroom. She stared into the mirror even though everything told her not to, but saw nothing. All that stared back was her own reflection, and occasionally a flash of Dean as he walked around. "Maybe it's a wrong place, wrong time kind of thing. Like, Lily left any mirror's vicinity before Mary could do anything, so she took the next person who walked into her range. Which would be Steven."

"It's possible."

She shut the closet door just as Sam peeked out of the bathroom in a bit of a rush. "Hey, there's a blacklight in the trunk, right?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded, tossing the EMF meter to Kat before moving back out the window, to the Impala.

"Can you give me a hand, Kat?"

With a shrug, Kat handed the meter to Charlie. "If it starts to make any sort of noise, let us know." She followed Sam into the bathroom, helping him to figure out how the mirror was attached and then easing it off the wall until he had a good hold on it, taking the camera from him.

"Thanks." He walked back into the bedroom, laying the mirror face down on the bed. Dean had gotten back and tossed him the blacklight. He quickly tore the paper backing off while the other three watched, going over it with the blacklight to reveal a handprint and the name 'Gary Bryman'.

"Gary...Bryman?" Charlie leaned over, reading the name with her brow furrowed.

"You know who that is?"

"No."

Sam looked up at Dean and Kat. "We can probably find records—"

"No, no. _You_ can find records. Some of us—" Dean nodded to Kat. "—were up all night going through records while you got your beauty sleep."

"Fine." A twitch of the jaw was Sam's only sign of irritation. He returned the mirror to its rightful place in the bathroom before he, Dean, and Kat gathered their stuff and climbed back out the window. They waited by the Impala, parked a couple houses down, for Charlie to meet back up with them.

She wanted to stay with them, so they piled into the car and dropped Sam off at the library to find out about Gary Bryman. The other three went to a park just across the street and found a bench to sit on, trying to fill the time with boring small talk. Thankfully, after a few minutes, Charlie asked about all they knew, which was a lot more interesting to talk about. It was nice when they didn't have to hide it.

"—and so Dean pretty much had to do surgery on me to get the glass out." As Kat finished the story, she noticed Dean smiling slightly. Perhaps because it was a story that she'd reacted dryly to just a week or so ago when he recounted it, but now she was telling it to Charlie with nearly a little bit of humor in her tone. He had had so little normalcy in his life, it must have been nice to have _something_ returning to normal, even if it might not have been the rest of the world's version of normal.

Charlie turned to look at Dean. "Have you ever gotten hurt like that?"

"Well—"

"So." Sam walked over, sitting down on the very edge of the bench next to Kat. "Gary Bryman was an eight-year-old boy." He looked at a slip of paper he was holding. "Two years ago, he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver."

"Oh my God." Realization crossed over Charlie's face.

"What?"

"Jill drove that car."

Three 'eureka' looks were exchanged at the connection, then Dean looked at Charlie. "We need to get back to your friend Donna's house."

And they did, in an amount of time that seemed horrifying in retrospect due to Dean's driving, but none of them really thought about it in the moment. Donna had let them in with a little reassurance from Charlie, and they were quick to get to the bathroom and take down the mirror to check it. The back had a handprint much like the other one, but the name beneath it was 'Linda Shoemaker'.

Upon returning downstairs to Charlie and Donna, the latter girl seemed to get defensive at their questioning about who Linda was and anything that might have happened between her and Steven. "Why are you asking me all this?"

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important."

She stared at Sam for a short moment. "Yeah. Linda's my mom, okay? And she overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an _accident_ and that's _it_." Even Charlie's eyes were wide with realization as she made the connection between Jill's situation and this. "I think you should leave."

"Now, Donna, just listen—"

"Just get out of my house!" Clearly on the brink of a breakdown, as she had every right to be, Donna ran past them and out of the room.

"Donna, wait!" Kat moved to follow, but stopped short with a sigh. Bothering the poor girl would only aggravate her further, not comfort her or get anything else out of her.

"Oh my God." Charlie looked at them, crossing her arms. "Do you really think her _dad_ could have killed her mom?"

Kat briefly thought that it wasn't so far-fetched, that people who should have been good could turn out to be the opposite, but it went as soon as it came. It lingered just enough to bother her only slightly. It was almost relieving, not focusing on it.

Dean shrugged and Sam said simply, "Maybe."

"It's the only connection we have right now." Kat turned back to them. "Jill and Gary...now Steven and Linda?"

"—I think I should stick around."

"Alright." Dean nodded. "Just whatever you do, don't..." It was obvious that he didn't need to finish the sentence."

" _Believe me_. I _won't_ say it."

"Don't let Donna say it either. If she starts, tape her mouth shut." Well, at least Kat got Charlie to smile before she, Sam, and Dean took their leave.

* * *

More research. Kat had always been pretty good at it, having been what John started her out on when she first joined them, but she was really starting to resent it now. She wasn't sure she'd ever done so much fruitless work before.

She was pinning up pictures and articles on a bulletin board in the boys' motel room with Sam, while Dean sat with a laptop, printing things out.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a _nationwide_ search?"

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database...at this point, any Mary in the country who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

Sam moved to sit at the table with him. "But if she's haunting the town, she should have _died_ in the town."

"Maybe Mary doesn't play by the normal ghost rules." Kat left the bulletin board, leaning against the table.

"Maybe. I'm telling you, there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you've got a better idea..."

Sam rubbed his neck. "The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern.

"I know." Dean looked up from the laptop screen. "I was thinking the same thing."

"With Mister Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run—"

"Both had secrets where people died."

"What if Shoemaker didn't kill his wife, though?" Kat ran a hand through her hair.

"He probably did, Kat. I mean, there's a lot of folklore about mirrors. That they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break 'em."

"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it...and punishes you for it."

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not."

Kat noticed that the door to the bathroom was open and she could just see the edge of the mirror through the doorway. She wasn't entirely sure if she even had a secret that Mary could use — her father would have, and she was frustrated with herself for thinking so — but seeing that reflective surface was starting to make her uneasy.

"Take a look at this."

She was all too happy to turn her attention back to Dean, who started printing out a couple pictures. Having her back to the mirror didn't really make her feel any less uneasy, but looking at the pictures offered a distraction. Sam had taken the pictures, so she moved behind him to look over his shoulder, cringing slightly at the scene of a girl in a puddle of blood. Another picture showed a handprint and the letters 'tre' on a mirror, similar to what they'd found on Jill's and the Shoemakers' mirrors.

"Looks like the same handprint."

"That's _definitely_ the same handprint."

"Her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana."

"Okay, so how the hell did she get here?" Kat met Dean's eyes, brow furrowed. "I mean, I know I said she might not play by the rules, but Fort Wayne is a couple hours away. That's pretty far for a ghost."

"Well, the article mentions the detective who was on the case. I say we get what we can out of him."

* * *

Fort Wayne was another place they got to in a terrifying amount of time thanks to Dean, but they still didn't pay it any mind. It was best to get places quickly anyway, to avoid anymore unnecessary deaths, if possible. Thankfully for them, the detective who'd dealt with Mary Worthington's murder seemed all too happy to talk about the case.

"I was on the job for thirty-five years—detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder...that one still gets me."

Kat nudged Dean as he adjusted some item in the room, getting his attention so he would face the detective.

"What exactly happened?" He stepped closer to the man.

"—you three said you were reporters."

"We know Mary was nineteen," Sam took over with a sigh. "Lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress." He read from some paper on which they had written down anything they could. "And we know the night of March twenty-ninth, someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut her eyes out."

"That's right," the detective said softly, nodding.

"See, sir, when we ask you what happened, we wanted to know what _you_ think happened."

He looked at Dean for a moment, before leading them into his office and taking some files out of a filing cabinet. " _Technically_ , I'm not supposed to have a copy of this."

Kat smirked. She couldn't help but like the man, even though she didn't know him. He opened up a folder, showing them one of the same pictures Dean had printed out before.

"Now, see that there? T-R-E?" At Dean's affirming response, he continued, "I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer."

"You know who it was?"

"Not for sure." He sifted through papers. "But there was a local man, a surgeon." He took out a picture of a well-dressed man wearing sunglasses and holding a cigar. "Trever Sampson. And I think he cut her up good."

"Now why would he do something like that?"

"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, 'T'. Well, her last entry, she was gonna _tell_ 'T's wife about the affair."

"Willing to do it, but not own up to it." Kat sounded a bit monotone. How could someone kill another over the possible reveal of a choice they were making?

"Yeah, but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?"

Kat wanted to tell Dean that, for some reason, she felt pretty positive that it was him, but she knew she would feel like a terrible person if it wasn't, so she let the detective answer on his own, "It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional."

"But you could never prove it."

"No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."

"Is he still alive?" Dean was so good at just sounding curious when the weight of the world possibly rested on the answer.

"Nope." The detective sat down, letting out a sigh. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."

Kat's gaze met Dean's, something seeming to click inside them. Mary couldn't expose her own killer's secret, so...

"Where's she buried?" Sam asked.

"She wasn't. She was cremated." The answer wasn't so great, since that meant they couldn't just take care of her bones and be done with it. Dean rolled his eyes, earning a more gentle nudge from Kat than before, one that was more of support.

"What about that mirror?" He pointed to the picture. "It's not in some evidence lock-up somewhere, is it?"

"Um, no." The detective shook his head, sitting back in his chair. "It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago."

Another disappointed look from Dean, a supportive brush of the hand against his from Kat, and a question from Sam, "You have the names of her family by any chance?"

He was kind enough to give them the names, mentioning that he had some hope they might be able to solve it. That was what made him so likable. He really seemed to care about what happened to Mary, and probably cared just as much about his other cases.

They were back on the road to Toledo within an hour or so, Sam calling all of Mary's family he could reach, inquiring about the mirror. "Oh, really? Ah, that's too bad, Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well, maybe next time. Alright, thanks." Sam hung up the phone with a sigh, pushing the antenna down with his teeth.

"So?"

"So, that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for _years_ , until he sold it, one week ago." He almost laughed. "To a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo."

"That's what this is, then?" Kat leaned forward in the backseat. "She's attached to the mirror?"

"Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow."

Dean glanced at Sam, before returning his attention to the road. "Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?"

"Yeah, there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house, people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped."

"So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit."

Sam furrowed his brow. "Yeah, but how could she move through, like, a hundred different mirrors?"

"Maybe all mirrors are the same? They're connected like...I don't know. A telephone line."

"Either way, if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it."

"And I say that's a _terrible_ idea when there's a spirit inside it." Kat smirked at the half-hearted glare Dean gave her in the rearview mirror. "You know I'm right."

Sam's phone rang and he lifted it back up, flipping it open. "Hello?" He paused, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Charlie?" The name and his sudden change of demeanor had both Dean and Kat looking over with concern. "Slow down— yeah. Yeah, okay, we'll be there as soon as we can." He hung up.

"What is it?"

"Mary's after Charlie."

Kat let out more curse words than she should have, and Dean pressed down on the gas pedal.

* * *

 **A/N: There you have it! Part two will probably be pretty short. Hope you all enjoyed. Any mistakes are because I always end up writing late at night. Please favorite, follow, and review!**


	11. Bloody Mary: Part Two

**A/N: Who's shocked that this is out so soon? I know I am! This episode just came really easily to me once I started writing it. I've had a few ideas for Skin for a while, so hopefully I can get that out quickly, too! I'm really looking forward to season two and onwards because, let's be honest, season one is mostly focused on legends and hunts. I love it, but the character focus will be so much easier to write (and enjoyable to read)! Thanks for the support, everyone. I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC, Katherine.**

* * *

Kat soon found herself in Sam and Dean's motel room, sitting on one of the beds next to Charlie and gently patting her back to comfort her. The girl had her knees pulled up to her chest with her face hidden in them and the collar of her cardigan pulled around her head for extra measure, too terrified to catch a glimpse of any mirror, glass object, or anything that might be shiny enough to have a reflection. If Kat had to be honest, she felt a little jumpy herself, especially now that Mary was technically so near. It hadn't felt as real when she knew the ghost hadn't manifested without having her vengeance fatally sated.

Some monsters were just creepier than others.

Thankfully, Sam and Dean were making quick work of covering and removing anything that might be reflective. Curtains were drawn, cloths were thrown over mirrors, framed pictures were taken down, and Dean even covered the room's television.

After a quick look to make sure everything was safe, Kat gave Charlie's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's okay, you can open your eyes. She can't get to you now." She flashed the most reassuring smile she was sure she had ever mustered when Charlie slowly lifted her head.

"Listen," Sam said softly and sat down on the opposite side of her, "you're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? Now, as long as you do that, she can _not_ get you."

Charlie took a shaky breath, still nervously keeping her collar up around her face. "But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No." Sam shook his head, patting her on the back. " _No_. Not anytime soon."

"We're gonna figure this out before that even comes _close_ to happening." Kat frowned as she took in Charlie's fearful, teary eyes, looking over her head at Sam to see that he looked just as concerned. He offered her a weak smile, which she returned.

"Alright, Charlie." Dean sat at the foot of the bed in front of Kat. "We need to know what happened."

"We were in the bathroom." She was rocking back and forth a bit as she spoke. "Donna said it."

"That's not what we're talking about." That had Charlie looking at him. "Something happened, didn't it? In your life. A secret, where someone got hurt." There was a moment's pause as tears fell from the girl's eyes, and he glanced at Sam and Kat. "Can you tell us about it?"

Charlie hesitated for a moment, her chin trembling. "—I had this boyfriend. I _loved_ him, but he kinda scared me, too, y'know? And...one night, at his house, we got in this fight...and I broke up with him. And he...got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me...and he said, 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself'. And you know what I said? I said, 'Go ahead'. And I left. How could I say that?" She looked up at Dean, as if he were the one who could condemn or redeem her. "How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know?" She looked to her left at Sam, then to her right at Kat, before lowering her gaze. "I should have." She started to cry, pressing her face to her knees again.

Kat wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but knew that wouldn't help. It really wasn't her fault. Everyone said stupid things when they were upset and it was clear by her heavy remorse that she hadn't truly meant any malicious intent.

Sometimes people did malicious things without meaning to and lived with the guilt for the rest of their lives. And just because they kept it hidden, it didn't mean that they didn't care, but rather that they were afraid. Afraid of those they love being disgusted by them, perhaps.

"—and head over to Estate Antiques. Kat? Are you listening?"

She looked at Sam, who was now standing, as was Dean. "No. But I know we're going to the antique shop." She turned to face the girl next to her again, her tone going from normal to as gentle as she could make it. "Charlie, do you need me to stay with you?"

"No." She lifted her head, tear tracks on her cheeks. "You need to help stop her."

Kat reached out to swipe away the remaining tears. "If you get freaked out, just call Sam's phone and you can talk to one of us, okay?" She got off the bed and followed the boys out of the room. It was raining, which was a little inconvenient, but they could hardly wait for another day. Charlie needed help now.

At first, the ride to the store was silent, aside from the consistent beat of rain against the Impala. It wasn't long, though, before Dean said, "You know, her boyfriend killing _himself_ , that's not really Charlie's fault."

Kat was glad he saw that, too.

"You know as well as I do, spirits don't exactly see shades of grey, Dean." Sam sounded rather empty as he spoke, which was concerning. "Charlie had a secret, someone died. That's good enough for Mary."

"—I guess."

"You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to _just_ smash that mirror."

"I still think it's a terrible idea." Kat sighed. "What if that just releases her?"

"Not only that, but Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean, she moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in 'em forever?" He paused, letting his point sink in. "So maybe...we should _try_ to pin her down. You know, summon her _to_ her mirror...and then smash it."

Dean stared at the road ahead, brow furrowed. "Well, how do you know that's gonna work?"

"I don't. Not for sure."

"Who's gonna summon her?"

"I will. She'll come after me."

Sam sounded so sure of himself, and that's when the flat tone he'd adopted suddenly made Kat realize something else was up. As she looked at him from the backseat, it was almost like she could feel everything that was coming off him. Guilt, secrets...she could see it, hear it, feel it like it was her own. "What's wrong?" Her question had him looking back at her with confusion.

"Alright, you know what? That's it." With a clenched jaw, Dean took a more firm approach, his worry for his brother turning into frustration as he pulled over to the side of the road.

"Dean." Kat's voice held warning, but her eyes remained worried and on Sam.

Dean paid no mind, however, turning to face Sam. "This is about Jessica, isn't it?" His frustration seemed to wane some when his brother stared ahead silently. "You think that's your dirty, little secret, that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has gotta stop, man." He was smiling, but it was hardly from amusement. "I mean, the _nightmares_ and—and calling her name out in the middle of the night; it's gonna _kill_ you. Now, listen to me. It wasn't your fault! If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her! Or, hell, why don't you take a swing at me? Or Kat?" He gestured to the backseat. "I mean, we're the ones that dragged you away from her in the first place."

Despite his bluntness, Dean was right. But Kat wasn't sure that even being blunt was going to help with someone who already decided on what they thought to be true.

"I don't blame you." Sam gave Dean a meaningful look before he turned to Kat. "And I definitely don't blame you."

She knew that. She could see Dean briefly filing that away, though, to bring up later about how _he_ wasn't told that he _definitely_ wasn't blamed.

"Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, 'cause there's nothing you could have done."

"I could've warned her." The honesty in his voice made Kat's feelings even stronger, and now she was _really_ worrying.

"About what?" Dean's exasperation was back thanks to Sam's stubborness. "You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean, I know all about it! If that's not enough, Kat knows all about it. It's not gonna work for Mary."

Sam stared ahead again, mood darkening further. "No, you don't."

"—I don't what?"

"You don't...know all about it. I haven't told you everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"

Dean gave him a surprised look, then considered it for a moment, only to say, "No. _I_ don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

Kat longed to know what Sam meant. Not only was she feeling a little overwhelmed by all the emotions coming off of him, but he had been her best friend once. Had told her everything so she never had to wonder. She'd cried in his arms over her father, yet he couldn't open up to her now.

"Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless _we_ do something about it. And you know what, _who knows_ how many more people are gonna die after that? Now, we're doing this. You've _got_ to let me do this."

Dean stared hard at him for a long moment, before muttering under his breath and starting the car again, pulling it back onto the road. The rest of the trip was silent and thankfully short, and the rain had stopped by the time they reached the store.

Sam, ever the locksmith, used his talent on the door, having it open in less than a minute. He turned on a flashlight as they stepped inside, shining it around the room to reveal that this particular antique shop seemed to have a surplus of mirrors.

"Well, that's just great." Dean put his hands on his hips, before reaching into his pocket to pull out a picture of Mary's body in front of the mirror, letting Sam aim the flashlight at it so they could check the details of the mirror. "Alright, let's start looking."

They walked ahead, Sam going in one direction while Dean and Kat headed in another. She couldn't help but think of Sam's feelings, Sam's secret. Most of all, she couldn't stop thinking of the possible sacrifice he was about to make. He already had to harbor some horrible, painful secret that helped keep him up at night, and now it was going to kill him? It was going to take him away, permanently, if trying to stop Mary didn't work.

"You know, I wish I'd secretly killed someone."

Even in the dark, with only a little moonlight streaming through a window here and there, she could see Dean's bemused and slightly alarmed look out of the corner of her eye. "What? Why?"

"Because then it could be me instead of Sam."

"Yeah. Because having _you_ get your eyes clawed out is so much better."

"Yeah." She looked at him fully and could see his expression had changed. He hadn't meant that it wouldn't be better for _her_ if she were the dead one, but rather meant that having her dead instead of Sam wasn't the alternative he was looking for. "—I try so hard to protect you boys and you keep fucking it up." Tears she hadn't anticipated sprung to her eyes. For Sam and Dean. For the thought of Sam's plan failing and Dean's pain if it did. His pain when his brother left for Stanford was difficult enough, even if it did end up giving her a friendship she hadn't expected.

"How do you think I feel?" It was his brother, after all. They came to another part of the store and had yet to find the mirror, so he called out loud enough for Sam to hear, "Maybe they've already sold it!"

There was silence and then, "I don't think so!"

Kat and Dean looked at each other and headed over to where Sam was, his flashlight pointed at a large mirror. Another look at the picture confirmed it.

"That's it." Dean sighed. "You sure about this?"

Instead of answering, Sam handed him the flashlight and let a crowbar he'd brought in take its place, moving closer to the mirror with Kat and Dean on either side. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary."

He was hesitant and shaky, and Kat grabbed his hand instinctively. He looked at her in surprise, but squeezed back as he tried to calm his nerves and then looked over at Dean, who offered him no reassurance whatsoever. He set his jaw and slipped out of Kat's grip so he could hold the crowbar up with both hands.

"Bloody Mary."

Nothing. Then Dean was suddenly whipping around and Kat followed his line of sight to see that there was a bright light coming from outside. Sam, too, took his gaze off the mirror after a moment.

Dean looked at the mirror, then back at the light. "I'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful." He started to walk away, but turned to grab Kat when she started to follow. "Stay here with Sam." His gaze was almost desperate.

He may not have been open with his emotions very often, if ever, but Kat had always been able to read those eyes. At least, as far back as she could remember. There was always something lingering beneath the mask he put on, even if there were times where she couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Now, he needed her to keep Sam safe, and damn it if she wasn't going to try her best for all three of them.

"Smash anything that moves." He walked off to deal with a problem far different than Mary.

Kat watched the mirror, waiting for something to pop up. She jumped slightly when Sam suddenly turned. "What is it?" She wasn't stupid. It had to be Mary, but she wanted to know the details. Needed to know what she was up against. She needed to know a lot of things. "What do you know, Sam?"

"If I tell you, we can't stop Mary."

"You wouldn't have told me anyway, would you?"

He smashed a mirror he was looking into with his crowbar, before spinning around and smashing another. He turned to face Mary's mirror. "Come on. Come into this one."

Kat stared into the mirror with him, seeing nothing but their reflections. She looked over her shoulder as she heard Sam gasp, eyes widening as he grasped at his chest and blood started to trickle from his eyes.

 _"It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica."_

"Sam!" She grabbed onto his arms, looking into his face. He stared over her, into the mirror, dropping his crowbar. "Sam. Sam, no, close your eyes. Look away!" He fell to his knees and she fell with him, reaching up to wipe away the blood as if that would help. More just streamed down his cheeks.

 _"You never told her the truth_ _—_ _who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning_ _—_ _you had them for days before she died. Didn't you? You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die? You dreamt it would happen!"_

She noticed the crowbar out of the corner of her eye and knew she had to do the one thing she didn't think was the best idea; so without a second thought, she grabbed the crowbar, hurriedly stumbled to her feet, swung around, and slammed it into the glass.

It shattered instantly, some of it flying and the rest just falling, and she didn't care much that a few pieces might have nicked her. Sam's gasp of relief was enough for her to allow a few meager cuts.

"Sammy! Sammy?"

She turned to see that Dean had run back in from whatever he'd done and was now kneeling in front of Sam, taking hold of his face.

"It's Sam."

"God." He scowled, wiping away some of the blood. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." His weak voice wasn't too convincing, but it was better than his pained grunts.

Dean looked at the ruined mirror, helping Sam to his feet. "Come on, come on." He pulled an arm around his neck, while Kat hurried to support Sam's other side. Victory seemed to be theirs, yet they only made it ten or so feet before the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and crunching glass. They slowly turned to see Mary crawling out of the mirror's frame and staggering to her feet.

"I told you smashing the mirror was a bad ide—" Kat's words ended in a gasp as pain bloomed behind her eyes. It was sharp and overwhelming, and seemed to take over her whole body just as it did to Sam and Dean. She fell to the floor next to Sam, grabbing onto his sleeve tightly without really meaning to, just wanting a distraction from the pain. It was impossible.

It was then that she remembered that mirrors were considered a reflection of the soul, or so some believed. That was what Mary did. She used reflections to make people see how horrible they were for the things they'd done. Yet, Mary was a kind of a hypocrite.

"Let her see. Let her..." She couldn't finish, crying out as the pain intensified. She could feel copious amounts of blood pouring down her face.

She heard Dean grunting and managed to force her gaze to him, seeing him struggle to lift up a mirror and turning it to Mary. She stopped walking towards them, tilting her head as she stared at her reflection.

 _"You killed them. All those people. You killed them!"_

With blood dripping from her eyes, Mary began to seem to choke, before melting down and falling apart into nothing but a pile of broken glass.

Just like that, the pain was gone. Kat wished she could say it was like it was never even there, but she could still feel the after effects of it and she felt _exhausted_ from it. She saw Dean tossing the mirror he'd been holding and it broke just like the others.

"Hey."

Sam grunted and Kat looked at Dean as she pushed herself into a seated position. "What?"

"This has gotta be, like, what? Six hundred years of bad luck?"

Maybe they would have laughed, had they not felt half-dead. For what it was worth, Sam rolled his eyes and Kat gave a smile that was only _mostly_ forced.

The three managed to get to their feet, Sam grabbing onto Kat's arms to pull her up. "Hey, I should be helping _you_."

"Pretty sure we're in the same boat, Kat."

They each wrapped an arm around the other to support both each other and themselves. Dean was quick to do the same on the opposite side of Sam, his motives both selfish _and_ considerate like theirs. At a slow pace, with their efforts combined, they managed to make it outside, where there was a police car and two unconscious cops.

"—Dean?" The alarm in Kat's voice was weak and even just that was using up far too much energy. "You know what? Forget it. We'll talk about it tomorrow." She only pulled away from Sam once they reached the car, only to hold onto that next as she opened the back door. She practically fell into the seat, which wasn't far off from what Sam and Dean did when they got into their respective seats.

The ride was silent, but not tense like before. The only thing that hung in the air was the weight of sheer exhaustion. They managed to make it back to the motel in one piece, though the stare Charlie gave them didn't exactly make them feel like they arrived put together.

"—what _happened_ to you guys?"

"What does it look like? We took care of Mary." Dean dropped into a chair at the table, groaning.

Kat shuffled into the bathroom, taking down some cloth from the mirror that had been put up in case Charlie went in there. "Oh my God." She understood perfectly well why she, Sam, and Dean had received the look they did when they walked in. There were streaks of blood going down her cheeks, trailing over her jaw and chin, and even a few drops that had made it to her shirt. It was starting to dry, so she had to scrub a bit as she wet a washcloth to clean herself up.

She didn't look much better, just less bloody. The lingering pain and exhaustion from enduring it was evident in her face and her posture.

Either way, she made her way back to the room, where Dean was recounting all the events to Charlie. Sam saw her and gave her a small smile — and it was kind of terrifying with the blood on his face — as he moved past her into the bathroom.

"—can I stay with you guys? You know...just in case. My parents think I'm at Donna's anyway..."

"My room has an extra bed." Kat walked to the door. "And I'm about to take some pain meds and pass out, so feel free to take it."

* * *

They took Charlie home early the next morning, Dean parking outside her house as she told them her parents would already be at work. He turned to look back at Charlie, who hesitated before getting out.

"So this is really over?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's over."

"—thank you." Her voice was full of sincerity, and she shook the hand that Dean extended to her, before turning and giving Kat a hug.

"Oh! Okay." Kat smiled, wrapping an arm around Charlie in return. "Take care of yourself, okay? And don't let anyone play games that involve ghosts."

She nodded, opening the door and getting out.

Sam, who had been silent most of the drive, called out, "Charlie!" He made the girl pause and turn back around. "Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen."

Charlie smiled slightly and, eyes brimming with tears, turned and walked into her house.

Dean hit Sam on the arm and gave him a meaningful stare when he turned to look at him. "That's good advice." They shared a smirk, before he started the car and pulled it back onto the road, driving out of the little neighborhood.

"Really good advice." Kat reached out to ruffle Sam's hair, earning a look that tried to be stern, but ended up showing amusement.

They drove through the city's street in silence, which Dean broke with, "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that this is all over...I want you to tell me what that secret was."

"—look. You're my brother...and I'd die for you." Sam paused. "But there are some things I need to keep to myself."

Dean looked at him almost sadly, but said nothing and just returned his eyes to the road ahead. Both he and Kat noticed the way Sam suddenly paused and stared out the window in disbelief.

They let it go.

* * *

They'd made it a little ways out of Ohio by nightfall and stopped at a motel when they were all starting to get tired. They decided to have a full night's rest before getting right back on finding more hunts.

Kat, as per usual, headed to the vending machine before settling down. She was pretty sure that if any motel had one, she ended up there. But, hey, it was convenient and cheap, and there _was_ something kind of addicting about little bags of chips.

When she got there, she found Sam, but he wasn't staring listlessly like he was just trying to distract himself. In fact, he already had a bottle of water and a pack of crackers. While he was staring at the machine's contents, he seemed to be considering them. She moved to stand by his side, arms crossed against the slight chill in the air.

"Did your room not come with a TV?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, smirking. "This is way more riveting." He looked at the snacks again. "What do you think Dean would want?"

"Whatever's the most unhealthy."

"—I'm gonna need more quarters."

She grinned and bumped her shoulder into— well, not his. Kat was above average height for a woman, but Sam was still a hell of a lot taller, so her shoulder ended up playfully bumping into his bicep. She watched him for a moment, as he put some money in and entered the code for some candy bar. "You wanna tell _me_ what your secret was?"

"I didn't even tell Dean."

"I'm not Dean." She didn't receive a response to that. A part of her felt like he _wanted_ to tell her, but couldn't bring himself to. She was probably wrong and didn't want to push him to the point of pissing him off or making him shut her out like he had when he first joined her and Dean. "You _did_ tell him that you'd die for him. Would you die for me, Sam?"

"Kat."

"I'd die for you." Her singsong tone had Sam giving a genuine laugh.

"Yes. Okay? I'd die for you." He'd gotten a soda and some chips for Dean too, grabbing them from the dispensing department before straightening up and looking at her. "How are you? With your dad and everything?" It seemed like he asked both out of concern and as a way to steer the conversation further away from his secret, but Kat felt...okay.

"Sometimes bad things just happen." She smiled as he did. "Sometimes...good people do bad things. I want to believe that's how it was with my dad, because otherwise what that demon said was true." She sighed, staring at a worn spot on the vending machine like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "It hurts a little, knowing he did that and kept it hidden. And I think I'm always going to wonder..." If he felt remorse. If he would have told her someday. If he went to a good place or a bad one. If he could see her from wherever he was and felt betrayed by her pain.

She looked at Sam, who stared back with a sympathetic gaze and a soft smile of encouragement. "But I'm never gonna know. And I think it's probably better to hope for the best and forgive him than it is to hold a grudge that might be baseless."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Didn't really need to. "Hey. He's not gonna say anything, but Dean's gonna be relieved."

"Oh, I'm sure." She really was. It wasn't hard to see that Dean wasn't all that into his two constant companions being so desolate. "Now, if only we could get you back to normal." Her comment received an uncomfortable smile. "Hey, can you get me some chips?" She handed him a few quarters she had brought with her. "I'm gonna go see Dean."

He nodded, so she turned and walked back to the rooms, opening the door to the room right next to hers. Dean was just stepping out of the bathroom, already in a T-shirt and boxer briefs, ready for bed.

"Did you get my—" He paused when he looked at the doorway. "Well, you're not Sammy."

She looked at him for a moment, then walked into the room and straight over to him, wrapping her arms around him. He tensed a little, brow furrowed and eyes slightly wide.

"—what is this?" They'd hugged before, sure, but most of their intimate moments were in desperation or just something they didn't realize they were doing. This was sudden and took him by surprise. "Wait. Is Sam okay?"

"As okay as he usually is." She pulled back, looking up at him. "Everyone's okay." She wanted to take the stress from worrying about her away from him; she wished she could help with Sam, but knew that his problems were a lot deeper than hers.

"You're fucking weird, you know that?"

"Yeah."

Sam came in and gave Kat a bag of chips, as well as the quarters she'd given him. The sweet son of a bitch. She bid them goodnight and returned to her room feeling rather light.

Everything wasn't buckets of fun, but rather buckets of _okay_ , and that felt just as good right now.

* * *

 **A/N: Woo. How was that? Was it good? Was everyone in character? Was it enjoyable? I hope so lol. Any mistakes are from writing late at night and not noticing them while editing. Please follow, favorite, and review!**


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